


Crashing Down Into The Ground

by IPaige



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Multi, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2018-05-05
Packaged: 2018-08-11 13:25:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 16
Words: 36,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7894318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IPaige/pseuds/IPaige
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Soulmate marks were rare, but everyone secretly craved the idea of receiving their own personal mark. Seeing the tentacles of colour twist and bind their way into a person’s skin, permanently marking the individual in the place they first make physical contact with their soulmate. </p>
<p>Bellamy just didn't think his soulmate would be a grounder.<br/>While Clarke was unsure of what to do with a soulmate who was from the sky.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Basically a reimagining of the 100, if Clarke were to have gone to the ground when she was 5 and including the idea of soulmate marks.
> 
> Clarke growing up on the ground until meeting Bellamy (and the 100) after they come down on the drop ship.

**Chapter 1**

 

The drop ship screeched against the speech it was forced to endure, the young girl was crying. Pulling at the harness that held her place, tugging at the material in an attempt to reach her father. She was confused and disorientated; she’d knocked her head against the metal above her and blood was beginning to run down her forehead. It was warm and sticky, scaring her enough to make her cry harder. They’d been falling for too long now and the panic was clear on her father’s face but he wouldn’t respond to her questions. He turned then, pulling at his own harness so he could maneuver himself around and face the young girl.

 

“I’m sorry Clarke, I’m so sorry. I just wanted you to have a chance.”

 

Clarke couldn’t understand, her father had woken her up during the middle of the night and told her to put on her warmest clothes and pack some others in her backpack. She’d been confused but had followed his instructions without question. When they’d entered a room she’d never seen before and placed Clarke on the seat, she’d been confused about what he was doing. When he’d locked the doors to the ship, she’d gotten scared. But now seeing her father with tears in his eyes, she was terrified. Clarke had never seen her father cry, he was strong and brave, and he was her hero. Seeing her father like this confused her.

 

“Clarke, the Ark is dying. I tried to tell them, I did.”

This was something Clarke knew, she’d heard her father talking to mother about it. However, she didn’t understand, how could the Ark die? It wasn’t a living thing, it was a space station. Before Clarke could question this, her father continued.

 

“They knew, that you’d heard and I couldn’t let them do that. Not to you. This was the best chance for you, and a chance to prove to them. Prove we can return home- ”

Clarke was confused when he’d stopped talking, his concentration turning to the equipment making sounds in front of him. The ship jumped as if hitting something hard, yanking Clarke backwards and forcing her to let out a scream. Clarke watched her father; he was kissing the tips of his fingers, where the marks looped around the tips. He was whispering under his breath, now eyeing his daughter he trailed his fingers down the side of her face. Pulling slightly at the curl next to her face, pushing it behind her ear.

“I love you Clarke”

 

-&-

 

When Clarke woke up, she was upside down. Her head hurt and the harness was the only thing holding her place. But they were pulling on her chest and making her ache, the door to the ship was open and she was alone. Where was her dad, he’d been holding her hand when they crashed into the earth, but now he was gone. When she turned to try and look outside she was shocked by the colours she saw, from the sliver of earth she could see through the door, she was amazed. Clarke had only ever see trees like that on screens, flat, grainy screens. The colours on the screen paled in comparison to what little Clarke could see through the door.

 

“Dad!”             

 

She heard movement outside the door, heavy footsteps stomping on the ground. Calling out for her father again, the terror began to build inside Clarke; he wouldn’t scare her like this. Clarke knew her dad would answer, that had to mean it was someone else. She screamed as the man bent down to view her, he wore a mask that stopped Clarke from viewing his face. It was covered by material and blacken bones, Clark had never seen anything like it. Before she knew what was happening, arms were reaching towards her. Pulling at the harness, she begun to hit and scream hoping the man would let her go, that her father would hear and come to her rescue. But his grip only tightened and her arms were now pinned against her sides, he was talking to her now. In words Clarke couldn’t understand, but he was soft spoken and the hands that held her were soft. By now Clarke was outside the drop ship, eyes darting around to take in the world she’d never seen before. There was so much colour and movement, she’d never seen anything like it. It was during this observation that Clarke saw her father, he was lying against a boulder. Bright red blood stained his shirt and Clarke chocked on the vision before her, she couldn’t understand. When she begun to scream for her father the man holding her spoke again, this time louder to someone other then Clarke. Her screams become whimpers, she still couldn’t see the man’s face, but his eyes were growing harsh. A response to the other man speaking, Clarke attempted to move away and pull herself from his arms, but he held her still. Looking towards her eyes, pushing her hair away from her tear stained face.

 

“It will be okay child, we will be home soon. Say your goodbyes” He was nodding towards her father, loosening his hold.

 

After dropping herself down to the ground, she stumbled over the uneven dirt. It was an experience she wasn’t use to, yet had no time to marvel at. Walking quickly toward her father, she paused next to him. He wasn’t moving and she was unsure of what to do, there was a loud sound coming from somewhere around them. It took Clarke a while to notice that it was her, a mix between a cry and scream. Pulled from deep inside her body, the man who had been holding her, walked towards her.

 

“Don’t cry, hold yourself strong” He was standing close to Clarke, turning her to face her father. The sound had stopped now, and Clarke was numb.

 

“Like this, goufa” His hand was pulling Clarke into him, he’d bent down next to her, his other hand reaching towards her father’s face, shutting his eyelids.

 

“Yu gonplei ste odon” He was watching Clarke now, repeating the phrase. Until Clarke understood he wanted her to say it, but the language was strange and foreign. Never having heard anything like it before, so her words were garbled and broken. But the man holding her seemed happy enough, reaching forward to pull on her father’s hand, pulling his watch off his wrist. Clarke watched as his hand trailed over her father’s soulmate mark, handing the watch to Clarke. “To remember”

 

Clarke held the watch close to her chest, the group of people had begun to move and Clarke was unsure of what she was meant to do. But with the sound of movement behind her, she made the decision to follow them, sparing a look at her father. Could she leave him?

 

As Clarke ran to catch up she fell over rocks and dirt, but they didn’t stop to help, nor slow their own steps. It was the first time Clarke knew she was on her own, the ground was a harsh place. Children weren’t coddled like on the Ark, they grew up fast or they were left alone. It was a fast lesson Clarke would learn many times over the years, but the further she moved into the unknown and away from her father. The more she knew that this wasn’t the only lesson she would be forced to learn on the ground.

 

-&-

Clarke woke with her arms curled tight around Lexa, both of them facing the window on the far side of the room. She slowly moved her arms, to begin untangling the mess that was their bodies. She hadn’t dreamt of how she came to be on earth for a long time, preferring to forget she wasn’t truly from the ground. As Clarke pulled away, her eyes caught on the dark black twirls that coiled up Lexa’s spine, similar to the ones on her father’s fingertips, yet so different. She couldn’t stop herself, her hand was already moving forward. Although she had enough sanity to check that Lexa was still asleep, before slowly tracing her fingers up her spine. Clarke knew the moment Lexa woke, her body stiffened at the intrusion. Leaving Clarke sighing before moving off the bed towards the window, it shouldn’t hurt to see it anyway. The swirls were blackened with Costia’s death, and even if they weren’t there, they couldn’t really be together. Clarke could never quite forgive her for her actions on the mountain, so seeing the dead marks – reminding her that she wasn’t it for Lexa shouldn’t hurt, it shouldn’t hurt at all. But it did.

 

Bracing her arms against balcony, the slight wind moving across the sheets wrapped around her body. Polis was cloaked in darkness, the early morning sun just beginning to rise against the tall trees that surrounded them. The sounds of the people below, was what comforted Clarke most. The movement of people below let her know that she was surrounded life, by living breathing beings. She may have destroyed the mountain but Polis lived on, strong and proud. Not quite home, but somewhat in way she couldn’t describe it was. Squeezing her eyes shut when Lexa draw closer, except before she had the chance to speak the night sky was lit up. Clarke knew what it was before she could truly register what was occurring, the dark metal pushing through the sky. Shrouded in bright light, a ship.

 

Upon realizing where the ship was landing, Clarke knew it was time to go. Reaching for her clothes and moving faster then ever before, it would take her at least 3 days to reach Tondc. Maybe less if she left now, she could grab some food before going. It would save her having to hunt, and she’d reach home much faster.

 

“Klark –“

 

“I will send back a warrior with the information you’ll need” pulling the hood up over her head before turning towards her Commander, “Leidon ai heda.”

 

Once Clarke was safe inside the woods, far from Polis. She allowed herself to feel, her feet were uncertain and her steps much louder then usually. She hoped no one reached them before Clarke had the chance to speak to Indra, or whoever was in that ship was dead. Clarke herself had only been taken in by the Trikru, because of Nyko. Her father was dead and he’d claimed that Clarke could be a useful asset, an innocent child willing to provide information about the Skaikru without knowing what it truly meant to do so. Despite the lack of information Clarke had provided, the acceptance had grown slowly. Clarke having to fight to prove herself, when Lexa had named her as an advisor, her clan had been proud and those who still doubted her status as one of them finally began to accept her. When Clarke claimed the mountain and freed the people inside, becoming Wanheda. The clans celebrated and admired her, but Clarke still secretly hoped to one day meet someone like her. Someone from the sky. While she’d always told herself that the people in the sky were gone. She was the last of her people and she would have to live with that knowledge, she secretly hoped that one day she would find someone, anyone who could understand and know her. Watching the ship fall to the ground, the secrete hope flared bright in her chest. But only if she got there before her clan did.

 

-&-

 

Soulmate marks were rare, but everyone secretly craved the idea of receiving their own personal mark. Seeing the tentacles of colour twist and bind their way into a person’s skin, permanently marking the individual in the place they first make physical contact with their soulmate. It didn’t have to be romantic, there were few people who platonic soulmates. Some parents held their child for the first time and watched at the twirls of colour moved across there arms, while their child’s body erupted in colour. Bellamy had seen a video of the marks once, in one of his classes on the Ark, captured years before by some passerby. The footage was grainy and the person had filmed them from far away, it was clear he’d stumbled upon the rare occurrence and had zoomed in, upon realizing what was happening. They’d watched the couple knock into each on a corner street, the pink and lilac swirls, twisting and pulling at their arms. Crawling up from their elbows to their shoulders, winding round and creating individual patterns for each person. Different but the same. As Bellamy watched it, the fascination grew and a small part of him hoped that one day he would experience the mark for himself, but the bigger part of him prayed he never would. His life wasn’t conductive to a relationship, let alone one with soulmates.

 

As he watched Octavia look at the colours around her, the wind moving her hair and the trees swaying in the background. Smiling as she took in the world around her, as the delinquents shouted and cheered at the new world around them. He thought again about soulmate marks and once again was convinced that the world had got it wrong, Octavia was his world; she was his soulmate.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, first of all I want to thank everyone who commented, gave kudos or bookmarked. It means the world to me and it encouraged me to continue so here it is.  
> This chapter includes a bit of the actual show for the moment, as I am in the process of setting up the storyline, but it will start to move away from the show after this. Let me know what you think! :)

Two of them had died upon impact; Wells had taken it upon himself to bury them. If his father’s message was right, they would need to start moving towards Mount Weather, and quickly. He’d found the map and was currently bent over it, working out the path he needed to take.

 

“Cool a map, Can you see a bar anywhere?” The guy speaking was skinny with a shit-eating grin on his face, Wells couldn’t help the eye roll when he noticed the goggles sitting on top of his head. When the guy reached his hand towards the map, as if to take it, Well’s responded by pushing his hand away from the delicate paper.

 

He hadn’t expected to be slammed into the side of the drop ship, for doing so. “Relax Chancellor,” Well’s eyed the kid that stood over him, pushing himself up to stand in front of him.  
“I’m trying to work out where we are!”

 

The shouting seemed to stop the groups of kids, as they were cluttered around the small area surrounding the drop ship. A new voice spoke “we’re on the ground,” Well’s eyed the new voice; he couldn’t name him but knew he was the guy who jumped the ship to be with his sister. They were standing next to each other, when Well’s eyes run over the smaller girl beside him, it resulted in the guy’s eyes turning into slits, narrowing in on Wells. “Isn’t that enough for you?”

 

“We need to find Mount Weather” He moved towards him, the kids were all watching the altercation beginning to unfold. “You heard my father’s message, that has to be our first priority.” Were none of them listening? They needed to start moving, or they’d never survive.

 

The girl snorted at Wells, turning her body to face his. “Screw your father, what? You think you’re in charge here?” Her eyes ran over Wells, clearly judging him.

 

Wells resisted the urge to yell, “I don’t care whose in charge here, it doesn’t matter. We need to move Mount Weather, to survive. Not because my father said so but because the longer we wait the hungrier we’ll get and harder this will be.” He turned to speak to the group that had begun to surround them, “How long do you think we’ll last without those supplies, we’re looking at a 20 mile trek.” Facing the siblings in front of him, to make it clear “we need to leave. Now.”

 

“I got a better idea. You go, find it for us. Let the privileged do the hard work for a change.” A round of shouts of agreement echoed throughout the group, they would never survive if they couldn’t work together.

 

“Your not listening, we all need to go”

 

“Look at this everybody” a dark smirk filled his face, Wells turned around to face the person who’d shoved “Chancellor of earth.”

 

“You think that’s funny?”

 

He’d moved forward before Well’s could even comprehend what was happening and before he new it, his was on the ground. Wells was on in the process of pushing himself off the ground, when another body had jumped between him and the guy who had attacked him. Finn, he remembered from the drop ship, watched the other guy, daring him to make a move. “Enough, we can’t just sit here.” No one paid Wells any attention, the group around them already dispersing and leaving Wells standing next to Finn.  

 

“So Mount Weather, When do we leave?”

 

He observed the guy in front of him; he was better then nothing, “Now.” But he couldn’t stop his sigh when he realized there was a problem, “How will the two of us carry enough food for a hundred?”

 

Finn grinned, turning to grab the two guys behind him. “Four of us. Can we go not?”

 

“Make it five,” Well’s watched the girl from earlier and guy begin to argue, picking up the map and beginning to move. They didn’t have time for this, he was pleasantly pleased when he noticed that the four of them were following him.

 

-&-

 

As the moved through the trees and shrubbery, the others flounced from place to place. Clearly over stimulated by the new world, they were beginning to explore. They were falling behind and they didn’t have the time for this, they needed to reach Mount Weather, and soon. Finally having had enough Wells turned to them, “if your done flirting, could we hurry up?”

 

His statement was followed by their sniggers and laughs, realizing they would continue to play and muck around. The best decision was to walk ahead, and hope they followed. About two hundred steps in front of them, he saw it. Grasping and stopping at the sight, the others finally caught up to him. As they all stood in awe of the image before them, “it’s a deer?” Wells punctuated the statement as a question, unsure if what he was seeing could really be true. It spooked when Finn moved too close, scaring them all with its mutation.  

 

They kept a faster pace then, moving together with Wells. “Why'd they send us down here? Why now?” Finn was looking at the others but Wells had the answer. “The Ark is dying,” well at least he finally found a way to shut them up.

 

-&-

 

Even after their little adventure in the water, the group pressed on. Well into the night, the uneven ground and trees made the trek harder. They hadn’t reached the mountain by dark, the group was forced to stop. They were too young, too naive, they hadn’t even scouted the area, simply stopping in the darkness, when they’d found an area with moss and soft greenery. So they hadn’t seen the eyes watching them from up above, the first trickle of scouts had spilled into the woods. Most of them staying behind to watch the majority of the group, while two had followed the small group when they had watched them leave.

 

Penn was shocked when they hadn’t even attempted to be careful with their tracks, it made following them easy. Penn and Archer, observed them from above, they could take them now. But Indra had told them, that they were only there to observe them, for the moment.

 

Which they did, they watched them giggle and laugh. Clearly showing their lack of knowledge about what the earth had to offer, Skaikru were weak. None of them deserved to live, watching them now Penn decided that they wouldn’t survive the earth anyway. There was only one Skaikru who ever had the strength of a grounder, he couldn’t stop the sneer appearing on his face. How had Wanheda come from the same place as _these_ people?

 

They had climbed into the higher trees, to clearly see them. They were on the other side of the river, cheering when they saw Mount Weather. Both Penn and Archer leaned forward when one of them landed across the river, they couldn’t stop them now. But Mount Weather was a dead zone, no one was allowed to enter. Penn had thrown the spear before he even fully knew what his hands were doing; the screams that followed were loud and obnoxious.

-&-

 

Clarke reached TonDC in two days, only to discover that most of the clan’s warriors were already gone. Those who were left behind were still young, left behind to protect what was left behind of their clan, as she entered a young boy stopped her. His face still rounded with baby fat, his long brown hair braided back, it was done messily and Clarke noted that in some places it had gotten twisted. A statement to the world, that he was new to the duties of a warrior. She didn’t speak to him but the paint markings around her eyes and the style of clothing indicated she was not an enemy, he allowed her into their camp. His lack of recognition really spoke to Clarke about his age, too young to even understand who he was escorting. That, or it had been much longer then she remembered since Clarke had returned home.

 

When one of the older women of the clan, came rushing out to greet her, the boy beside her seemed shocked. Quickly schooling his face, but the awe was clear and Clarke felt sick. That the deaths of the hundreds of people she caused was something to be admired, turning to face the women she replied to her with quick and stern words. She didn’t have time for this, turning towards the medic cabin where she knew Nyko would be. Stopping just a few feet away, the boy was retuning to his position around the camp. “What’s your name?” Speaking in trigedasleng, he met her eyes bowing his head slightly, a clear indication that he was intimidated.

 

“Artigas”

 

“Artigas,” she repeated slowly. Nodding her head, before turning back to continue.

 

Once Clarke was inside the cabin, she released the breath she was holding. Almost jumping when she felt the hand on her shoulder, “ai goufa” Nyko smirked at her reaction to him, before pulling her into his warm embrace.

 

“Nontu” she replied, father, she’d spoken it for the first time years before when he had been training her. It had made his eyes spark and the tiniest smile appear at the corner of his mouth, he’d never asked her not to use it, but he’d never encouraged it either.

 

Nyko spoke in quick but quiet tones, “You got here faster then I thought you would.” The question was clear in his eyes, Clarke turned to eye the shelves that lined the walls, filled to capacity with medication and plants.

 

“I was in Polis” Clarke refused to meet his watchful eyes, afraid to see the clear disappointment in his eyes. Commander or not, Nyko would never forgive her for leaving Clarke inside the mountain. Turning quickly, she switched from Clarke to Wanheda, putting herself into the mindset she needed, to be able to work, “I saw it.”

 

Nyko froze at her words.

“You didn’t think you could keep that from me did you?”

 

“I wasn’t,” but the tense way he moved his hands, indicated differently. She continued to watch him, on anyone else the watchful eyes of Wanheda would have them quickly telling her anything she wished to know. Unfortunately it didn’t work on Nyko, “I was protecting you Klark,” he spoke in a deep, gruff voice. His trigedasleng getting rougher and thicker with emotion, “The skai kru are not who you think they are, and you are not one of them anymore.”

 

Softening at his words, “I just, - I need to see them” unable to put into words her thoughts she hoped he could just understand. Nyko refused to turn and face her, but he spoke quickly giving her the location of where the ship had landed.

 

As she was leaving, she turned to face the tree line around the camps perimeters, noticing the young boys. Eyeing each of them, even in their hidden positions. Letting them know they weren’t quite as skillful as they believe themselves to be. Clarke smirked when she caught his eye, “Leidon Artigas.”

 

The other boys turned to watch the boy in the tree almost directly above Clarke, she continued on moving through the wood quickly.

 

-&-

 

Clarke was almost at the drop zone, when saw them. Penn and Archer carrying a boy, her first response was shock. They’d taken a child to scout with them! How had Indra let them do that? Whoever it was, he was obviously unprepared for battle. The spear broken off to make it easier to carry him, as she moved towards them she noticed his clothing, the things on his head confused her. The words for them on the tip of her tongue, it left her hazy and confused. But two things were clear to Clarke; he was Skaikru and Clarke was too late.

“Chit laik yu doing?”

 

Archer stuttered at her presence, in recognition of who she was. But Penn had grown up with her, so she turned her eyes on him. Waiting for an answer to her question, “Taking him to TonDC, he could have information.”

 

Nodding quickly at his explanation, she turned forcing them to follow her back. Unwilling to let them take him without her.

 

-&-

 

Bellamy was exiting the drop ship with one of the girls, the smirk on his face wide and clear for everyone to see. The delinquents had all begun removing their wristbands, there was chaos and screams but it was freedom. The closest Bellamy had ever come to being truly free, he’d always been told what to do and when to do it. When his mother was alive, she controlled everything he did and there was always a time limit for everything. Their lives were timed perfectly, always watching the clock on the wall, waiting for the next inspection. When he became a cadet guard, there was just more people telling him what to do. Even after his mother was gone, and his sister locked away, the Ark gave him his freedom. But he was watched and controlled even more then ever before, so for the first time. Bellamy was free and the rules of the Ark no longer applied, walking through the groupings of people Bellamy was shocked when he heard screaming and loud noises.

 

Running towards them was the Chancellor’s son and the others, but Bellamy was focused solely on Octavia, her walking was off and there was blood on her leg.

 

“Octavia!” Moving towards her fast, to help her sit down. “Where’s the food?”

 

“We didn’t make it there” Eyeing the boy before, Bellamy wasn’t impressed with his puppy dog face and long hair, it didn’t distract from the way he was watching Bellamy’s little sister.

 

“We were attacked,” there was a murmur running through the delinquents, each of them eyeing one another.

 

“By what?” the question was asked by someone in the crowd, everyone quiet as they waited for a response.

 

Bellamy focused on pretty boy as he watched everyone, “Not what, who. Turns out when the last man from the ground died on the Ark, he wasn’t the last grounder.”

 

Bellamy tightened his arm around Octavia, pulling her into his side. The crowd grew louder, the tension rising.

 

“This is a good thing, it means we can survive here.” Well’s words didn’t ease anyone and when pretty boy spoke next. It only made things worse.

 

“True, the earth wont kill us. Bad thing is; the grounders will.”

 

Bellamy turned watching the group, “Where’s the kid with the goggles?”

 

Well’s moved to face him, “Jasper was hit.”

 

Bellamy froze, guess there was no place with true freedom.

 

 

  


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who commented, kudos and bookmarked this! Here's a new chapter, once again there's a bit of the actual show here, just to lead into this story. Let me know what you think! xx

Once they’d reached camp, Clarke demanded that the boy be taken to Nyko’s cabin. Penn eyed her carefully but refused to speak out against her, especially in such a public forum. Clarke continued to watch Penn and Archer escort the boy, until he was safety inside the cabin. Nyko was standing next to the door watching, the stern look indicating his lack of approval of her actions. But Clarke knew him well enough to know that he would watch out for the boy, at least until a decision was passed down.

 

Striding forward, Clarke ignored the stares and questioning looks. Indra was standing in front of a group of warriors, giving orders when Clarke arrived. Standing to her left, Clarke tilted her head towards the warriors and Indra understood the silent order. Although Indra was the Chief of Tondc, being Wanheda allowed for greater respect from her elders.

 

“Bants,” Leave, Indra demanded of the warriors around her. Indra spoke in Trigedasleng, but while she spoke to the warriors she eyed the girl in front of her. She continued to work on weapons, even as Clarke attempted to demand her whole attention.

 

“What are you planning to do with him?” Clarke wandered if the glare she received back was equal parts anger at her question and choice to ask it in English.

 

“Chit needs kom be odon,” _what needs to be done._ The steely look in her eyes made it clear what she meant. “Frag em op,” _kill him._

 

“No,” Clarke stood in front of Indra, the look she received in response reminded Clarke of when she was younger. When Lincoln would take time out of his training to train Clarke to fight, she was still a child then and Indra had no belief that Clarke could ever truly be a warrior of the Tondc.

 

“The great Wanheda wants to save someone’s life, for a Commander of Death it appears you do not live up to your name.” Indra was walking a way from Clarke, yelling orders at the warriors around her.

 

It rubbed Clarke the wrong way, she wasn’t the little girl she was when Nyko had first bought her back to Tondc, she’d come a long way from just being ‘the gada kom the skai,’ _the girl from the sky._ For years after she was bought to Tonda, everyone had sneered the name at her; she refused to let anyone push her back into the title.

 

“ _I am_ Wanheda and _you will_ take my advice,” Clarke made sure her voice was steady, her words carefully chosen. It left Indra seething, but she stopped in her tracks. Clarke walked to stand in front of her again, “No one is coming from Polis, they are in our territory and for the moment it is up to us, how we deal with the skai kru.” Clarke made sure to keep eye contact with Indra, “we _will_ return him to his people.”

 

Indra’s stare was penetrating and dark and if Clarke were any less of a warrior, she would have shivered under the stare. Indra nodded, “understood.”

 

Clarke was attempting to process the information and understand what Indra was planning when Indra called for the clan’s attentions. “We will return him to his people,” there were cries of outrage, “he will be hung from a tree, as a warning to the skai kru.” Cheers sounded from the people, the warriors that had returned with Indra, already huddled together to plan for their return to the Skai kru camp.

 

As the cheers rung out through the clearing Clarke moved towards Nyko’s cabin, Indra grabbed at her arm. “You may be Wanheda, but _I_ am the Chief of Tondc.”  

 

Once she was inside the cabin, she was bought face to face with Nyko. He was already hovered over the bleeding body of the boy; from the movements of Nyko’s hands Clarke could tell he’d already removed the spear.

 

“Bants,” Clarke demanded that Penn and Archer leave, moving around the table to wash her hands in the bowl of water, before moving to help Nyko.

 

It was a while before either of them spoke and Clarke knew from experience that Nyko would not be the first to talk. “You were already helping him before I got here.” It was an unspoken question, wandering if Nyko had changed his mind about the sky people.

 

“Indra gave her orders.” The stiff set of his jaw, let Clarke know that he wasn’t happy.

 

“Why do you hate them?” Clarke couldn’t understand, she understood the basic; that these kids were on their territory and that everyone was wary of outsiders. But the hatred towards sky people, seemed stronger then the hate they had had for others. Nyko ignored the question, instead demanding for Clarke to begin shredding the herbs he needed. “If you hate them, you must hate me.” Clarke twisted her hands as she worked, pretending to shake them out.

 

“Nowe goufa,” _never child,_ “there was another, before you and your father.” Nyko faltered over the word father, but before Clarke could interrupt him, he continued on. “A man from the sky, he bought weapons and guns, he killed a whole village before they could kill him.”

 

“But that was just one man, they can’t all be like that.” Clarke bit down on her bottom lip, attempting to gage Nyko’s reaction.

 

Nyko ignore her statement, instead continuing to work on the boy. Clarke watched the boy before her; he was young maybe around her own age. She couldn’t stop herself from reaching forward and brushing the hair from his face, his chest was on display and there was no old scars, no markings or bruises beside the one that the spear had inflicted. On the ground he would be old enough to have been to war, but the unblemished skin only further showed to Clarke that this boy, (because that’s what he was, she was unable to call him a man) and the others he bought with him were not made for the ground. They might have been the same age, but Clarke was years beyond him.

 

When Nyko was done, he begun to clean the blood from the boy’s chest. But Clarke took the cloth from him, ringing out the cloth and running it over his chest again. Nyko watched carefully “yu laik won gon osir, nou won gon em,” _you are one of us, not one of them,_ and when Clarke compared herself to the boy in front of her she had to agree that she wasn’t like him, like them.

 

-&-

 

Well’s hooked the bag he’d made of insulation and seatbelts around his chest, the others may have decided that they didn’t need the Ark but Well’s knew better. He also knew that they needed as many people as possible, there was a chance that Jasper was alive and he was going to take it.

 

Monty stood beside him, pulling at the parachute material they could use to carry Jasper. “We need more people.”

 

Well’s snorted, “I have a feeling we won’t find many people willing to help.” Walking down a level he came face to face with Finn, “Hey, you ready?”

 

Finn’s eyes widen, “I’m not going anywhere and you shouldn’t either. That spear was throw with pin-point accuracy from 300 feet.”

 

Well’s watched the boy in front of him, when it was clear he wasn’t about to change his mind he continued on as if he’d never asked. “Build a wall, use the fallen trees.”

 

Well’s walked out, Monty right behind him. They needed more then just the two of them, if they had any chance of finding Jasper.

 

-&-

 

Bellamy tried not to flinch when Octavia squirmed and whimpered under his touch, “what was it?” Instead he tried to focus on tightening the fabric around the wound.

 

“The others said it looked like a giant snake”

 

Bellamy watched the confusion in his sister’s eyes, the annoyance growing, “you could have been killed.” He kept his voice stern and held his face in the irritated scowl he knew it had been in since her saw her limp into camp.

 

“She could have been, if Jasper hadn’t jumped in to pull her out.” Bellamy ignored the deep voice of Well’s behind him.

 

“Are you guys leaving? I’m coming too.” Bellamy stood his ground, refusing to let her leave. She’d been hurt enough; he wasn’t letting her leave this camp ever again.

 

“You’ll only slow us down, we're here for you. I hear you have a gun.”

 

Bellamy turned to face the voice, automatically scowling at him. But he dutifully lifted his shirt to display the gun.

 

“Good, you’re coming.” As he watched Well’s walk off, he sneered at the power he thought his statement held.

 

“And why would I do that?”

 

“Because you want _them_ to follow you, and right now they’re thinking only one of us is scared.”

 

Bellamy turned slightly to look at the people, who surrounded them. “Murphy, come with me. Atom, my sister doesn’t leave this camp. Is that clear?”

 

After receiving the confirmation from Atom, he turned to see the scowl on his sister face, already sensing the trouble she bound was to make.

 

As they walked to follow Wells and Monty, Murphy spoke “Since when are we in the rescuing business, huh?”

 

Bellamy tried not to glare at the boy following him, talking under his breath so the others in front did not hear. “Once the Chancellor thinks his son is dead, they’ll never come down. He turned to face Murphy as he walked, “I’m getting that wristband, even if I have to cut off his hand to do it.”

 

-&-

 

Clarke watched the two warriors that Indra had sent with her, they carried the boy with no care for his injury. They were rough with their movements; it meant his body was being thrown from side to side. Clarke frowned at the damage they must be causing, “nou,” _Stop._

 

Realizing that she needed to say something, Clarke thought quickly. “You keep moving him like that and you’ll kill before we even have the chance to use him as a warning.” She kept her voice dark and husky, refusing to look away from them. The one holding the boy nodded, readjusting his hold on the boy.

 

When they begun walking again, Clarke released a silent breath. They moved through a fairly open field, each of them watching their steps for the carefully covered pits. Until they reached the tree in the center, it was large and not _too_ far from where the Dropship had landed, Clarke begun moving up the tree before one of the warriors could. Once she was up higher she indicated that they should lift him, Clarke moved her hands fast and as carelessly as she could pretend to. But while one warrior watched the area around them, the other was watching her. Fearing her movements were too gentle, she pulled a little harshly at the bindings. The boy cried out, tugging at the bindings on his wrist. When he continued to scream, Clarke smacked her hand down around his mouth.

 

There was movement on the far side of the trees, “go.” The men already had their weapons drawn, but Clarke was moving faster. Continuing to blind the boy to the tree, pushing the closest one to her indicating she wanted them to leave.

 

“Wanheda, osir wont bants yu.” _We won’t leave you._

Clarke scoffed at the statement, “ai laik wanheda ai nou want o need yu,” _I am Wanheda I do not want or need you._

 

He bowed his head slightly, the two of them moving quickly and silently through the trees. Moving in the opposite direction of the noises, so further up they could swing around to return to the clan. Clarke finished tying off the vines but the Skaikru were too close now, she wouldn’t be able to swing around behind them in order to return to Tondc. Clarke was forced to hide, she moved to the trees further behind the one that she had strung up the boy in. Climbing further up into the tree, so that the foliage would cover her body.

 

-&-

 

“Hey hold up, what’s the rush?” Bellamy made sure to hold up the gun, as both a reminder of why they bought him and as a subtle warning. “You don’t survive a spear through the heart.”

 

Monty shook his head, “Put the gun away, Bellamy.” Well’s pulled Monty back when Murphy rushed forward.

 

Bellamy eyed the dark-skinned boy, “Jasper screamed when they moved him. If the spear struck his heart, he’d have died instantly. But that doesn’t mean we have time to waste.”

"As soon as you take of the wristband, we can go."

 

Bellamy watched as the boy before him pulled his wrist closer to his chest, “The only way the Ark is gonna think I’m dead is if I’m dead. Got it?”

 

Bellamy smirked, stepping into his space, reaching to grasp at the other boy’s wrist. When it was snatched out of his width, another person jumping between them Bellamy was forced backwards. Rolling his eyes as pretty boy encroached on his personal space, “thought you weren’t coming?”

 

“Changed my mind,” Bellamy watched his eyes flicked between all four members of the group, “we should spilt up, cover more ground.”

 

Bellamy tensed his hands, glaring at the backs of the three boys in front of him, he needed to get that wristband of him. Murphy was walking behind him, the clear irritation heard in the continual sighs and huffing of his breath.

 

“How do we know this is the right way?”

 

His eyes’ were rolling before he could stop himself, “we don’t. Spacewalker thinks he’s a tracker.”

 

“Its called cutting sign. Fourth-year earth skills. He’s good.” Bellamy shook his head in disbelief.

 

He was ready with a response when pretty boy called out, “You want to keep it down or should I paint a target on your backs?”

 

Bellamy stormed forward to say something when they heard screams and groans in the distance, each of them looking around.

 

Monty looked at him, “now might be a good time to take out that gun.”

 

The group of boys ran through the greenery, pushing at the branches that hindered their path. Bellamy held the gun out in his hands, moving quickly, when they entered a clearing Bellamy gapped at the vision before him. The boy Jasper was strung up in a tree, Well’s spoke first. “We need to get him down.”

 

“I’ll climb up there and cut the vines.”

 

When Finn made to move further towards the tree and the strung up boy, Bellamy watched Well’s in front of him. His eyes landing on the wristband. 

 

“They put something on the wound,” pretty boy sounded confused. “It looks like something to heal it.”

 

“Why would they try to save his life?”  
  
Bellamy scowled, “why do you think? To lure us here?”

 

While Well’s and pretty boy spoke, Murphy moved to help move Jasper down the tree. Bellamy observed the surrounding area, “they must be here waiting for us.”

 

That caused everyone in the area to turn and watch the area around, feeling the hair on the back of his neck stand up. There were eyes on him, Bellamy focused in on the area behind the tree in the center.

 

“There!” Bellamy pointed at the slight unnatural movement of the tree, as soon he spoke a figure dropped from the trees. The blonde hair caught his attention, he watched as they rushed towards him. Bellamy reached for his gun, only to find it gone.

 

He was preparing to fight, when he realized they weren’t coming for him, but rather aiming to run around him. When Bellamy moved into their path, it caused them to falter, moving further to the right. Bellamy watched as they fell into a covered pit, a small gasp escaping them. He moved without thinking, reaching forth to grab their arm.

 

Bellamy’s hand wrapped around what he now noticed was a young girl’s arm, using his own body’s weight to stop her from falling further down. He was drawn to her face immediately, taking in every detail he could. Her blonde hair was pulled back on top of her head, decorated with different plaits, swirls of paint twisting around her eyes. The blue in them shocked him, but they moved from his, instead focusing on the length of her arm where he held her.

 

Bellamy’s own eyes flicked down, catching the swirls of blue appearing on his skin. The blue twirls coiled and twisted, moving up his fingers and covering his hand, just barely flicking over to begin covering his forearm. His eyes glanced down to where they were connected, the blue twirls reaching forth on both sides of his hand on her pale skin. His soulmate was a grounder.

 

 

 

 

  


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much, to everyone who commented, kudos and bookmarked. It means the world to me, let me know what you think of this! xx

The girl before him begun to struggle, she was eyeing the earth beneath her, judging where she would fall. Even from Bellamy’s viewpoint he could tell she wouldn’t land safely, she would without a doubt fall onto one of the pikes sticking up from the earth.

 

Bellamy grunted when she pulled at her arm. “Stop!” Bellamy groaned when he felt his body being pulled forward, she was struggling too much, as Bellamy attempted to steady her, he heard the others yelling to ‘pull her up.’ As the other’s reached to grab at Bellamy’s body, they moved together until Finn was able to grab at her upper body and haul her out of the hole.

 

Bellamy’s hand prickled at the loss of her, the sensation moving up his arm and into his body. When she was standing steady she pushed herself away from Finn, her eyes moving around the close vicinity.

 

Finn was holding his hands out in front of him, “Hey, Hey, it’s okay” the girl was steady on her feet, but her body was tense ready to respond to anything. Her eyes were moving around the group of boys, but they barely stopped on Bellamy, refusing to make eye contact for too long.

 

When she moved to dart forward, through the group towards her original exit point, Well’s bought the gun up to her face. She froze at the sight and Bellamy felt as if he’d been punched in the gut, the air in his lungs evaporating at the sight.

 

“Wait, what are you doing!?” Finn was watching Well’s, eyes moving to the others, begging someone to say something. When Finn’s eyes reached Bellamy, they were drawn to his hand, which Bellamy now had cradled to his chest as if to protect it from the current situation. Bellamy could see the exact moment he made the connection, “Bellamy do something,” his voice was pleading, but Bellamy was unable to form any words.

 

“I say she deserves it, look what she did to Jasper,” Monty’s voice was hard and his whole focus what trained on the boy still strung up in the tree. The girl’s eyes moved to Monty, her face was blank but it was clear she was assessing the boys one by one.

 

As Well’s made to move closer, the girl faced him head on. Her eyes refusing to move from his, it was enough to cause Well’s to falter and gave Bellamy enough time to dart forward. Pushing between the girl and Well’s, “what are you doing?” Well’s voice was indignant, furious at what he was seeing.

 

When Bellamy refused to speak, Murphy stepped in, his voice cold and his face lacked his usual sneer. “The grounders his soulmate.”

 

Everyone froze, the rest of the boys regarding the man in front of them until they found the mark on his hand which swirled and coiled up his arm. Well’s hand fell to his side. No one seemed to know what to do, the distant growling interrupting the moment between them all. The girl behind Bellamy, grabbed at his shirt pulling his attention to her, but they didn’t stay there for long, instead moving to eye the dark creature running full speed towards them.

 

“Wells! Gun!” Monty’s scream echoed around them, followed by the sound of two bullets firing at the creature.

 

It caused the animal to fall from its run, forcing it into the shrubbery and undergrowth around them. Each of them eyed the area around them; Bellamy turned his back to the tree with Jasper, his arms wide holding the girl behind him to protect her from the animal.

 

The silence in the area around them unnerved him, he felt the girl move behind him, and then she was dragging him down forcing him towards the ground. It forced her to turn her back to the area and Bellamy saw the animal pounce, but it was too late. He was forced backwards o the ground as the animal’s teeth dug into her shoulder; Bellamy was shocked as she twisted, the teeth tearing at the skin on her shoulder. She was reaching down to grab at something, when Bellamy felt more then heard himself scream. “WELLS NOW, SHOOT IT.”  

 

The gunshots echoed around them until all they heard was the empty gun clicking repeatedly, the girl before them pushed the dead animal off her, groaning as it pulled at the torn skin.

 

She was once again standing in front of the boys, this time they were dispersed further around the area. Bellamy subconsciously moved to look at her wound but the glare she sent his way stopped him, his hands dropping to his sides.

 

No one spoke, the girl gave one last look to Wells and the empty gun, when he simply looked dejected, the gun dropping to the ground, she turned. Moving through the undergrowth, not once turning to look back at them.

 

When she was finally gone from everyone’s sight, the other’s returned their attention back to Jasper. As they moved once again to cut Jasper down, each of them continued to spare glances at Bellamy, his eyes were still intently focused on the last place he saw the blonde grounder.

 

Bellamy once again tugged at his hand, pulling it into his chest to cradle next to his heart.

 

-&-

 

Clarke’s breath was raspy and rough, her feet unsteady and her eyes unfocused. She didn’t even have the sense to check if they were following her but the sensation in her arm was stinging and she told herself it was the wound in her shoulder. That the blood loss was affecting her, not the two large twirls of blue that collected and coiled around her arm, the large gap in the middle where his hand had been.

 

As she stumbled and fell to the ground, she curled in on her self to stop the panic drawing up inside of her body. She couldn’t go home like this; she was once again drawn to the blue twirls. The bright blue was light and sparkled in the light which filtered through the leafs in the trees above. Her other hand moved on its own accord, the fingertips running gently over the new marks, it bought up a long forgotten memory…

 

Clarke pulled herself up, recalculating her course and direction. She couldn’t return home like this, blocking out all feelings allowed Clarke to move steadier, her path was sure and she refused to think about dark curls and freckles that she left further behind her the more she moved.

 

She winched as she pushed herself inside the small hole in the ground, pulling the cover over after she basically fell inside. As she was sprawled on the floor of the cave, she took the time to take in the room around her. There was no light, Lincoln wasn’t here, as she struggled to pull herself up and over to plush fur on the other side of the room, she prayed Lincoln would be returning soon.

 

-&-

 

Clarke woke on her stomach, hands running gently over the wound on her shoulder. She chose to lay still for just a little longer, refusing to talk for just a little longer. The hands moved to help her as she pushed herself up into a sitting position, Clarke turned her head to watch as Lincoln covered the wound in a paste and then some fabric.

 

After he was done he handed her another shirt, when they were finally just sitting next to the fire, he turned his face to watch her, making sure to run his eyes over the marks on her arm.

 

Clarke held her breath hoping the moment would pass, Lincoln turned back towards the fire but the moment held still in the air, “Skaikru.” The implication of what she said required no further explanation.

 

The two of them sat, staring at the fire, and Clarke was immensely happy that she came to Lincoln, his reserved and naturally calm nature was just what she needed when she felt as if she was spinning out of control.

 

“They can’t know,” Clarke thought of Indra, of Nyko, of Lexa, of all the leaders of the clans. Clarke thought of the peace she wished to prosper between the Skaikru and the clans, it would never happen if she couldn’t plead the Skaikru’s case. It would be hard enough when she was already the ‘gada kom the skai’ _the girl from the sky._ But with this, her hand run over the marks, the clans would claim she was only doing so for her soulmate, that she wasn’t thinking of the 12 clans but of herself.    

 

_Soulmate,_ the word tasted bitter on her tongue, it brought up memories of Lexa and her parents from the Ark, it left her shivering and her stomach in knots.

 

Clarke had to hide this as all costs; her lips formed the words from earlier, “ai laik Wanheda,” _I am Wanheda,_ if anyone knew… the images flooded her mind. Of dark curls and freckles dripping in blood, his eyes open and vacant, staring at her.

 

Lincoln was turned away from the fire, but his face was stern and set, the agreement clear in his eyes, this soulmate was a weakness.

 

Hours later when the sky was dark, Lincoln covered her in furs that shielded her arms from prying eyes, and together they walked in silence towards Tondc.

 

‘Love; is weakness,’ as the moon shined down on them, Clarke finally realized how true Lexa had been when she had spoken the words to Clarke. She was Wanheda and although those around her constantly reminded her of the fact, it was time Clarke truly accepted it for herself.

 

-&-

 

When they crossed the boundary line into Tondc, she heard the guards moving in the trees above them. Lincoln too, tiled his head at their movements, and Clarke vaguely wondered if Artigas was still seated in a tree somewhere on guard. But Clarke forged forward, unable to find it in herself to care too much. Instead moving forward, they were met with polite greetings from those still milling around outside the cabins.

 

Lincoln dropped her off at her cabin, squeezing her arm in a show of solidarity before moving off to his own. Her arm ached where he’d touched her, tingling at the points within the twirls of the marks, some how throwing her off. The hand that touched her was wrong, shaking off the feeling Clarke moved inside her cabin.

 

It was clearly untouched in her absence, the air was stale and Clarke willingly breathed it in. Opening the wooden trunk in the corner of the room, finding a jacket with long sleeves, slipping it over her shirt and buckling it closed over her chest.

 

In the morning Clarke moved without purpose, finding herself in Nyko’s cabin as he worked on one of the younger warriors. Clarke helped without speaking, Nyko switched between looking at the warrior and looking at his daughter. After Nyko gave clear instructions to the warrior to return in a couple days, before sending him off. He turned cleaning his hands and speaking quietly in Trigedasleng to Clarke, “is everything okay Klark?”

 

Nodding and humming to assure him, but as she was playing with the dried herbs on the table, her fidgeting seemed to indicate otherwise. “I know you don’t agree with the decisions about _them_ ," he tiled his head to indicate who he was speaking about, "but remember who you are.”

 

When Clarke still made no move to respond, Nyko turned to face her and try again. Clarke sighed and exited the cabin, Nyko watching her as she left.

 

Clarke couldn’t stay here and found herself packing a bag and leaving again, she just wasn’t sure where she was going.  

 

-&-

 

Cheers rung out around the Dropship, Murphy screaming to the crowd, “who’s hungry?!!” As the crowd responded with more cheering and shouts, Bellamy moved his way through the crowds. Monty, Wells, and Finn following him with Jasper in their arms.

 

As they entered the Dropship, Wells was the first to speak, “We need boiled water and strips of cloth for a bandage.”

 

The boys were crowded around the body, discussing the boy in front of them. “ -medicine- he’ll die-“ Bellamy caught snippets of conversation, his focus moving in and out, barely registering the world around him.

 

A body slammed into his side, Bellamy slowly turned to look at his sister, his ears ringing and it took him longer to process her words then he thought it would. “Bell! Are you okay?” Her face was expressive and worried, despite the fact that he’d forced her to stay behind; his lack of expression worried her.

 

Bellamy nodded tensely, keeping his eyes on the quick movements in front of him. Octavia begun to worry, unease quickly building, she ran her eyes over him, assessing her brother for any damage. Her stare caught on his hand, reaching out to grab at it. Pulling his hand closer to look at the mark, Octavia had only ever heard about the soulmate marks from her brother, never having seen one herself. “Is that a …?”

 

Bellamy snatched his hand back at her touch, refusing to speak about it. Instead he thought about long blonde hair and bright blue eyes similar to the new twirls and markings that ran along his hand, just barely beginning to twist up his arm. Lastly he thought about her turning and walking away from him, and the ache it left in his chest.

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, Sorry for the wait! The response to the story has been absolutely amazing and I can't thank you all enough for the comments, the kudos and the people who bookmarked/subscribed. Please continue to comment and let me know what you think!
> 
> Theres a lack of Bellarke within this chapter but that should change soon :)

The knowledge of Bellamy’s soulmate mark spread throughout the delinquents quickly, barely more then a day later and the whole camp knew. It had become a major topic of conversation, while the first day had been difficult and some had begun to question his authority, (Bellamy assumed this was Murphy’s doing). Bellamy had quickly taken charge again, ensuring that the camp knew that the mark changed nothing he was still in charge.

 

Atom had helped with that, Bellamy smirked at the memory of Atom hanging from a tree. The memory of his quiet and sullen face in the morning, as he was lowered down from the tree, it was enough to calm Bellamy’s temper and ensure that the delinquents were sure about his place within the camp.

 

Bellamy knew that most of the camp still spoke about his mark, but no one outright asked him about it and he chose to ignore it when conversations stopped near him.

 

Days later and Jasper was still slipping between consciousness and unconsciousness, the first few days had been difficult but over the past day he had begun to wake, his screams filling the camp.

 

Bellamy had chosen to leave the Dropship, letting the others deal with Jasper while he attempted to keep the rest of the camp in check.

 

He collected some of the boys and begun practicing throwing axes and knives with them, “That damn kid, always messing with my head.”

 

Bellamy turned to smirk at Murphy, “He’s not gonna last much longer. Better think of a new excuse,” before turning to throw his axe and show him how it was done.

 

Bellamy turned his back when Atom and some others joined them, but while he refused to offer him too much of his attention he listened as Atom spoke; two of the delinquents were missing. “It’s possible they’re just lost. We’ll keep an eye out for them when we go hunting later.”

 

Murphy’s sneer was vicious, “Let’s go kill something.”

 

“You’re not going.” Bellamy chose to ignore Murphy’s look, ignoring his complaint, “I need you to stay here. If the Grounders _are_ circling, we can’t leave this place unprotected.” Bellamy left out that he didn’t quite trust Murphy to be out hunting with him; especially after the scraps of conversation he had heard about Murphy sprouting his mouth of about him and his grounder soulmate every chance he got.

 

“Fine. Somebody better tell goggle boy to keep it shut.”

 

Bellamy walked away without a second glance back at him, instead entering the Dropship to see what he could do about the screaming boy.

 

Flinching away slightly when Octavia grabbed at his hand, strangely protective of the swirls that covered it. “What did you do to Atom?”

 

“Atom’s fine,” Bellamy turned away from Octavia, choosing instead to face Jasper and the people surrounding him.

 

“Then why did he blow me off?”

 

“Maybe he’s just not interested.”

 

“You can’t keep everyone away from me.”

 

Bellamy shook his head, not in the mood for explaining his actions, instead focusing on what was happening in front of him. ”Fine, you don’t wanna talk about Atom. Let’s talk about this,” Octavia snatched at his hand, pulling it up between them.

 

That seemed to grab the attention of the others in the Dropship, so Bellamy used the hand she held to turn and hold her wrist in response. Dragging her to a further corner of the Dropship away from the others, “that is not your concern.” Bellamy realized his voice was cold and his hand was hard around her wrist, Octavia was tugging at her wrist, it was only when her eyes showed slight fear that Bellamy noticed how rough his hand truly was.

 

Quickly snatching his hand away, “Bell-“

 

Jasper’s screams echoed around the Dropship, Bellamy stomping forward to see what was happening, and Octavia right behind him. As the knife cut through his flesh, Octavia attempted to jump between what was happening, “Stop it! You’re killing him.”

 

“He’s trying to save his life,” pretty boy stood up to stand between them.

 

Wells and Monty continuing to work on the infected flesh, Bellamy watched over them, “kid’s a goner. If you can’t see that, you’re deluded. He’s making people crazy.”

 

Wells ignored the conversation continuing to work on the infected flesh, “ I’m sorry if Jasper’s an inconvenience to you, but this isn’t the Ark. Down here, every life matters.”

 

Bellamy snorted, “He’s a lost cause,” shaking his head at the ridiculousness. “If you don’t have the guts to make the hard choice, I will. He’s been like this for three days, if he’s not better by tomorrow, I’ll kill him myself.”

 

After he left he heard the conversation continue, Monty commenting on his character; “Power-hungry, self-serving jackass. He doesn’t care about anyone but himself.”

 

But it was Wells' response that pissed him off, “Yer, Bellamy is all that. No wander his soulmate is a killer Grounder.”

 

Bellamy shook it off, instead focusing on the hunt and not blue eyes and the matching twirls that coiled an twisted between them.

 

-&-

 

Clarke stretched up on her toes; she was still undecided about where she was going. Since leaving Tondc, she had wandered in different direction, unsure of where she was going. She spent a night at Lincoln’s cave, but it felt wrong without him knowing, he was obviously off scouting. So the next night she had wandered, somehow finding herself moving closer to the Skaikru camp, then she ever intended.

 

Close enough that she could hear screams, her legs moving her before she knew what she was doing. From her position on the ground, she managed to scout the tree line, her eyes catching on someone. Pulling herself up quickly to identify herself, when their hand shot out. A signal to stop her movements, at their slight nod, she realized it must be Lincoln, their head leaning down in a slight question, but unable to move towards her.

 

Realizing the mistake she was making, Clarke begun to turn but there was movement to her right that she hadn’t noticed before and she was forced to shoot herself into the shrubbery to hide.

 

There were two boys, she recognized them both from the day in the field, the one with the gun, and the other boy who had helped pull her out of the pit and spoken on her behalf. Clarke was unable to help herself, following the two boys as they walked.

 

Following them to the river, as they stood by the water it become clear what they were looking for. Clarke moved as close as possible to hear what they were saying, “like that?”

 

Clarke smirked when she realized they were worried about the large snakes in the river. Keeping distance between themselves and the water, “we could rig this into some kind of a net. Find something to lower it into the water.”

 

Clarke bit at her lips, if they were looking for the red seaweed, it must mean that the boy wasn’t doing well. They were so busy discussing what to do; it was _right_ there. They could just simply walk in two steps and grab the section that was sticking near the top of the water.

 

The squawks and shrieks of the birds was the first sign, Clarke ducking further into the trees to protect herself, quickly accessing the area. Looking for somewhere to protect herself, as the horn sounded she knew it was time to run but the boys were still standing near the water. Making no move to run, she could hear them talking about the horn.

 

“Grounders?”

 

“It could be a war cry.”

 

“Or a warning.”

 

Clarke noticed the dark, murky, yellow fog moving towards them, she turned to her left. There was a cave down the hill, she could make it, but she turned to check that the boys had moved, instead she found them still standing by the river watching the fog move closer.

 

Clarke leaned back against the tree, slamming her head, and groaning when she made her decision.

 

Running as fast as she could towards the boys, they looked shocked at her appearance. Unlike the man from the other day their stances didn’t change, they were unprepared for her. Until she was close enough to grab their arms, they flinched at her hands, “Run.”

 

When she turned to look at the impending fog, they must have realized she was offering a warning **, “** Run!!”

 

Clarke ran ahead, the boys following her. As the horn continued to bellow she ran faster, plotting out the area around her in her mind, looking for somewhere they could take cover. But the fog was beginning to seep into the air around them, each of them beginning to cough.

 

One of the boys ran back towards the coming fog, calling for them to follow. Clarke tensed but noticed he had opened something in the ground, the boys climbing inside calling for her to follow.

 

Taking a deep breath, she ran towards them climbing inside. Once she was inside the fog continued to seep inside.

 

“It’s getting inside.”

 

“Seal any openings.”

 

Watching them talk between each other, Clarke placed herself in the furthest corner. When their eyes turned on her, she refused to meet their eyes, listening to the horns continue to bellow in the distance.

 

“You helped us?’ Clarke flicked her eyes up to the boy with the dark skin, the one that had held the gun to her head. Refusing to answer she turned her eyes away, she could hear their movements and kept her eyes on them through the corner of her eye.

 

“It’s still out there.”

 

When the dark skinned boy spoke again she rolled her eyes, “We should just make a run for it. We still didn’t get the seaweed for Jasper and he can’t afford to wait much longer.”

 

As he reached for the handle on the door, Clarke jumped as far as she could in what little room the compartment allowed. Grabbing at his hands, and yanking them away from the door. “NO!”

 

It was as he was beginning to pull at his hands within her own that it happened, a memory starting to nag at the corner of her brain. Clarke let her eyes run over his face, taking in the features and trying to place him, but the memory was just out of reach. Clarke released his hands and when he went to open the door again, she softly placed her own on top of his, “Don’t, it’s acid fog. We would die.”

 

He seemed to take her words at face value, moving away from the door. But it was the other boy that continued to study her, “so you _do_ understand us?”

 

Clarke turned away refusing to respond to their questions, but the boy was unrepentant, continuing to talk. “I’m Finn,” she offered him a slight glance, “and this is Wells.” The other boy looked stoic, not quite apologetic about his actions but clearly uncomfortable.

 

“Wells,” Clarke whispered the name across her lips, not loud enough for them to hear but enough for her tongue to taste the name. Creating a familiar movement, the nagging sensation in the back of her head begun to throb, flashes of memories moving in her mind.

 

She was shocked out of her own world, when she heard a bang. ‘Finn’ as he said his name was, was pulling out a bottle filled with a liquid from a part of the automobile.

 

“Whiskey, better then the moonshine on agro station.” He offered it to the other boy first.

 

“Alcohol’s toxic.”

 

“This is Earth. Everything’s toxic.” Clarke let out a gruff laugh at his words, “It’s a time-honored rite of passage.”

 

While Wells ignored his offer, Clarke grabbed it from his hand, it could be hours before they were able to leave, anything to make time pass. As she swallowed the liquid, trying not to let them see the moment it burned her throat.

 

“So you’re Bellamy’s soulmate?”  

 

Clarke’s hand twitched, drawing the eyes of the boys to her arm. Finding it covered completely by her jacket, “I’m no ones.”

 

She refused to show any weakness towards the mark, but it stilled the conversation and Clarke was okay to let the moment settle and pass.

 

-&-

 

After the fog had lifted they exited the automobile, Clarke leading them back to the river. They had attempted to lull her softly back into their conversation, the boy, Finn making a point of asking her questions. Clarke made a point of replying with irritated looks, refusing to answer with any words.

 

When they reached the riverbank, Clarke made a point of walking straight into the water and grabbing the red seaweed. She handed it to the boy, Wells, “break it down until it becomes a red paste, than cover it on the wound. Removing the previous paste, so a infection doesn’t grow-“

 

“It already did.”

 

Clarke winched, “you’ll have to remove it.”  


“We did – “

 

Clarke interrupted him, “no not the paste, the infected flesh.”

 

“We _did.”_

 

She was slightly impressed that they knew what to do, even more that they had the courage to do it. “Good, then clean the wound and cover it with the paste you make, you’ll have to change it every few days. Don’t let the flesh grow into the paste. If his as bad as he sounds, you should also make him a tea of –“ Clarke stuttered unable to think of the English word for the flowers. Instead leading them to the purple flowers, cutting of the sections they would need, and handing it to them.

 

Wells held the flowers gently, “why are you helping us?”

 

Refusing to answer, she simply instructed them on the quickest way back towards their camp, secretly hoping that they weren’t too late to save the boy. As they walked away she quietly whispered to herself, “gon ai laik won gon yu,” _because I am one of you.”_ Even if she did deny it and even if she didn’t want to be.

Walking swiftly in another direction, still unsure of where she should go. But being near their camp wasn’t an option; it only put her in positions like today, where she wanted to help them even when she knew she shouldn’t.

 

Thinking about her actions, reminded her of Finn’s question, “ _So your Bellamy’s soulmate?”_ The question unnerved her, but it provided her with a name. She remembered hearing it on the day in the field, but hadn’t realized it was his name. It was soft and gentle sounding, so Clarke allowed herself to think it repeatedly as she walked further away.

 

_Bellamy…_

But she refused to say the name out loud; for fear that someone else would hear.

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so amazed at the response to this story and am completely overwhelmed by the kudos, comments, bookmarks and subscriptions. It means so much to me and I can't thank everyone enough! 
> 
> Sorry for the long wait, let me know what you all think! xx 
> 
> FYI Comments give me life ;)

Bellamy shushed the others, watching carefully as the boar walked aimlessly just ahead of them. Judging the distance between them, when the silence was interrupted by the sound of snapping twigs and leaves crunching. Bellamy hurled the axe behind him, narrowly missing the small girl that now stood behind them.

 

“Get him!” As the others chased after the fleeing animal, Bellamy turned to face the little girl.

 

His face stern and his words harsh, “who the hell are you?”

 

“Charlotte,” she spoke softly, her eyes flittering around the close vicinity.

 

“I almost killed you. Why aren’t you back at camp?”

 

“Well, what with that guy who was dying, I just… I couldn’t listen anymore”

 

Bellamy nodded slightly at the small girl, softly watching her movements. His thoughts interrupted by Atom, “There’s Grounders out here. It’s too dangerous for a little girl.”

 

“I’m not little.”

 

“Okay, then… “ He had to admit the girl had gusto, she reminded him of a younger Octavia. “Here,” pulling a knife from his side, he handed it to Charlotte. “But you can’t hunt without a weapon. Ever killed something before?”

 

Shaking her head, Bellamy swung around, forcing the girl to turn with him. “Who knows? Maybe you’ll be good at it.”

 

Bellamy made sure to watch Charlotte’s feet, ensuring that they would be quiet as they walked through the forest. Hearing movements up ahead, Bellamy held his hand in front of her. To signal they were stopping, as his eyes scouted the area around them.

 

The group moved towards the sounds, but Bellamy was held back when he noticed Charlotte’s eyes were locked on the twirls that wrapped around his hand. Her eyes following the path that they made down his fingers, watching as the sunlight caught in the crevices between the twirls, making them brighter in the daylight.

 

Out of reflex Bellamy’s hand twitched, curling his fingers in towards his palm. Attempting to cover the mark as best he could, a silent request that she not try to touch the mark.

 

“What’s it like?” Charlotte’s voice was soft, but Bellamy couldn’t help the reflex to look up and see if the others were close, if they were listening.

 

Instead of answering he ushered her forward, to follow the others in their search for something to hunt.

 

-&-

 

The yellow fog was thick and wild, almost chasing them as they moved through the tress. Bellamy’s mind shuttered, attempting to find a way out of this, his hand was gripped tightly around Charlotte’s smaller one. He was aware that his grip was verging on harsh; almost brutal in the way he gripped her hand.

 

“Come on! There are caves this way!”

 

But the delinquents were spread out around the forest, each of them desperately searching for something, - _anything._ Each of them looking terrified, as a horn continued to bellow in the distance. Bellamy grabbed at Charlotte, tugging her further into his arms, forcing her to run along side him. Atom followed not far behind, tripping over the ground beneath his feet. As the fog engulfed his body, the horns continued to bellow in the distance, Atom’s screams reaching through the yellow fog.

 

“BELLAMY!”

 

Forcing Charlotte into a cave, Bellamy turned to fight his way back through the fog, the darkened smog seeping into his lungs and making him cough, while he was forced to retreat back into the cave. Atom’s screams were loud and violent, making Bellamy shake and a dark despair level itself on his shoulders.

 

“BELLAMY!”

 

Shuttering at the tenor of his scream, Bellamy turned around to face Charlotte. He settled her in into the corner of the cave, placing his body down next to hers. Listening, as Atom’s screams grew weaker and the dark yellow fog thickened while the sky grew darker.

 

Sometime later, Bellamy allowed himself to rest as peacefully as the situation allowed. Until Atom’s screams were long gone, his shrieks replaced by Charlotte’s.  

 

“No!”

 

Waking Bellamy from his dreams of golden locks and bright blue eyes, which seemed to smile at him while he played with the twisted swirls on her arm. Pulling himself across the floor to Charlotte’s prone body, “Charlotte, wake up.”

 

“I’m sorry,” her soft apology twisted at his gut.

 

Allowing his voice to soften, “Does it happen often?” At her small sigh, Bellamy continued talking, “What are you scared of?” Shaking his head, “It doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is what you do it about it.”

 

Charlotte’s head cocked to the side, “but… I’m asleep.”

 

“Fears are fears. Slay you demons when you’re awake, they won’t be their to get you when you sleep.”

 

“Yeah, but …how?”

 

“You can’t afford to be weak. Down here, weakness is death, fear is death. Let me see that knife I gave you.”

 

Holding the knife out in front of him, Bellamy gripped it tightly. “Now when you’re afraid, you hold tight to that knife and you say, ‘screw you. I’m not afraid.’”

 

Handing the knife back, Charlotte then repeated the words until Bellamy smiled gently. As Bellamy settled himself back down against the ground, Charlotte coughed slightly, her hand still wrapped tightly around the knife. “Bellamy…”

 

Pulling his body up to watch the small girl again, Charlotte shuffled in place. “Are you afraid?”

 

Bellamy tensed slightly, then nodded, swift and fast.

 

“What are you afraid of?”

 

He subconsciously curled his hand towards his torso, incasing the marks in a protective circle. Unable to find a way to explain his fear; that he would never see _her_ again. Or worse that he would, and she would just leave him again.

 

Charlotte watched as Bellamy moved his hand further into himself, holding it protectively. Realizing the implication, she turned her back to him, to settle herself back down against the hard ground. But while Charlotte drifted off to sleep, eased by Bellamy’s words from before, her hands gripped tight around the knife. Bellamy’s mind replayed the image of his soulmate flinching away from his hands and walking into the forest without a single glance at him.

 

-&-

 

When the fog had lifted, the two of them walked out of the cave. Charlotte close behind him, following in his footsteps.

 

“It’s all clear.” He indicated for Charlotte to continue following him, searching the forest around them Bellamy yelled for the others. “Anybody out there?”

 

As Bellamy listened closely for responses, a few of the delinquents emerged from the trees around them. “What the hell was that?” Eyeing the few that emerged, each of them look confused and were unable to answer. Noticing they were missing someone, “Where’s Atom?”

 

Everyone in the group was unable to answer, simple turning in different directions to look for the missing individual. Bellamy sent them off to search for the boy.

 

Bellamy found himself separated from the group, each of them close enough to hear.

 

Until young screams echoed around them, Bellamy rushing towards the shrieks. Already knowing whose screams they were, fearing the worst, Bellamy pushed himself to move faster. Releasing a breath when he found Charlotte unharmed, before taking in the full scene around them.

 

Bellamy rushed towards Atom, his eyes searching over his body, widening at the wounds that covered his body. The rest of the group arrived, looming over his shoulder to get a glance at that the dying boy.

 

“Kill me. Kill me. Kill me.” Atom continued to mutter, while Bellamy’s eyes continued to search the area, for some clue about what to do.

 

Bellamy felt Charlotte reach forth, handing him the knife he had given her earlier. As Atom’s voice shuttered, as he begged for some form of help. “Don’t be afraid.”

 

“Go back to camp.” As the group moved away, he turned back to the younger boy. Without turning back he spoke again, “Charlotte, you too.”

 

Atom continued to beg, Bellamy’s hand tightening on the handle of the blade. Taking deep breaths to steady himself, unable to focus, Bellamy held the blade over Atom’s body. Shaking as he begged for death, unable to stop himself from looking away and pulling the knife back.

 

Sitting back against his legs, Bellamy rubbed at his closed eyes, groaning when he couldn’t force himself to do what needed to be done.

 

The twirls around his hand tingled, the sensation moving down around his fingers. Causing the fingers to twitch and curl, opening his eyes and turning to face the silent intruder.

 

She stopped under his watchful eyes, both of them caught in the others stare. The moment was tense, the air becoming thicker the longer she held his gaze. As Atom continued to groan, she dropped down against the ground. Sitting next to Bellamy, he continued to watch as her gaze turned towards Atom, his breath coming harsher, coughing and choking on air.

 

He felt her hand twist into his own, her hands soft as she squeezed at his own before gripping at the knife that he still held. Gently pulling it from his hands, Bellamy watched as her other hand pressed down against Atom’s hair, running her fingers through his hair. Bellamy let his gaze wander up her arm, searching for the matching mark only to find the pale skin covered.

 

Bellamy let his eyes take in the girl before him, travelling down the length of her body. Noticing her long blonde hair was tinted with red, the bulk of her hair separated into multiple plaits. His stare flicking back to her face when she begun to hum gently, piercing the knife quickly into Atom’s neck, the humming continued. While her hand constantly run soothingly into his hair, until his coughs grew quieter and Atom was still.

 

When he no longer moved, she drew her hand back, sitting back against her legs. Bellamy’s eyes grew wide at what had occurred, before he too settled down on the ground next to the girl. Turning back to face her again, Bellamy found his eyes caught in her gaze once again. The blue swirls matching the colour of their marks, the colours that swirled around her eyes distracted from her face and as Bellamy peered closer he noticed how young she was.

 

“Thank you,” swallowing thickly at the tightening in his throat, his eyes focusing on the vague look in her eyes, wandering if she understood what he was saying.

 

They sat on the ground until Bellamy’s legs ached, the sun dipping lower in the sky. Keeping his voice soft and cautious, “I’m Bellamy.”

 

He used his marked hand to point to himself, it pulled her eyes down until she was watching the mark that coiled up his hand. Bellamy was fascinated at the way her eyes seemed to etch into his skin, taking in his movements and fixating on the mark so similar yet different from her own.

 

Without meaning to, Bellamy reached his hand up towards her face, cupping at her soft cheek. She gasped at his intrusion, and Bellamy made to pull his hand back when she brought her own up to hold it in place.

 

The tingling sensation burned brighter, almost throbbing in its intensity and Bellamy wandered if she felt it too. Her face made no indication that she felt what he did, but her lips moved softly and Bellamy was drawn to their movement. His face scrunched up in confusion, until her breath caught and his eyes returned to hers. Her voice slowly growing louder, before she breathed out his name, “Bellamy.” Shivering at the hitch in her voice, and the soft accent that caught his attention.

 

Bellamy ran his fingers lightly over the corner of mouth, where her mouth continued to catch on his name, as she continued to softly whisper. His marked fingers catching on the prominent freckle there, his eyes taking in every movement, until the hand that held his, gripped tighter. Tugging gently until he was forced to release her face, as she pulled her body away from his, he let his eyes beg for him. Pleading with her to stay, for just a moment longer.

 

But it was no use; she was already standing in front of him. Her stare was hard and guarded, while he sat still on his knees, head tilted upwards to watch her as she turned and walked away.

 

Bellamy sat shocked and broken, the tingling sensation he once felt, turning cold and numb.

 

Hauling Atom’s body up into his arms to carry him back to camp, the numbness spreading as he draw closer and closer to the camp. Everyone in the camp was still as Bellamy laid the body on the ground. Distantly hearing Wells speak to him about graves, but Bellamy simply nodded numbly. Unable to focus until he saw Octavia moving closer, hearing others attempt to pull her away until she stood in front of him.

 

Bellamy pulled himself up, “Octavia, stay there. Please, stay back.” Pushing her body backwards gently, she was softly watching his face, which lacked any expression. But still continued to push forward, eyes looking over his shoulder as they struggled.

 

Pushing at his arm, Bellamy found himself without the strength to continue fighting, watching emotionlessly as she tugged the jacket off the body. As her cries echoed around the camp, Bellamy pleaded with her to understand, but the loss of his soulmate left him without much fight and when she made to walk away, he simply let her.      

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who commented, gave kudos, subscribed or bookmarked, it means the world to me!
> 
> I am so sorry about the long wait but hopefully most of you have come back to read the next chapter, let me know what you think! 
> 
> Leave me a comment, with your thoughts on this chapter!

Wells slowly fed Jasper the liquid tea that Bellamy’s grounder had told them how to make, it smelled awful and Wells had at first refused to give it to him. But Finn had held strong, believing that it would help him, they had both agreed that telling the others how they found the tea was a mistake. Though out of the corner of his eye, Wells could see that Monty looked confused. Wells’ shoulders tightened when he realized that Monty was now holding one of the flowers the grounder had given them, with a pensive look on his face.

 

As Octavia brushed the hair from Jasper’s face, Wells took the opportunity to watch her face, the sadness clearly filling her face.

 

“I’m really sorry about Atom.”

 

Octavia’s jaw clicked slightly and Wells could sense the irritation rolling off her, knowing that she greatly disliked him and perhaps hearing the comfort from him, wasn’t what she needed.

 

Finally she looked at him, “I guess we’re gonna have to get used to people dying down here, aren’t we?” Returning her eyes to Jasper, she run her hand down the side of Jasper’s face, “but not you. You hear me? You’re not allowed to die.”

 

Hours later as they sat around on the top level of the Dropship, the others passing around a bottle of old alcohol. Wells thought back, while he watched Jasper, his lack of movement made him nervous. If they didn’t trust Bellamy (the man willing to kill the kid they were trying to save), should they really trust his _grounder soulmate?_

 

Wells tuned out the others as he thought about the grounder, the moment he held the gun to her face. The unwavering determination that held his gaze to hers, it was a look that he could recognize… on someone else, he’d seen it before. It’s what made him pause, forcing him into a standstill until Bellamy had jumped between them shocking him out of his trance.

 

“Can I, uh, get a hit of that?”

 

“Jasper!”

 

Crowding around the young boy, Wells was thankful that at least something was going right, that for the first time in days everyone in camp might be able to sleep peacefully, somewhat at least. If you didn’t think about the fact that they were surrounded by spear throwing grounders and toxic fog.

 

 

 

Later when he was sitting outside on a log near the camp, Wells let his mind wander back. The grounder they had met sticking out in his mind, her blue eyes and expression constantly sitting in the back of his mind. Plaguing his thoughts as he stood watch around the camp, trying to rid his mind of the constant thoughts.

 

“Hi,”

 

Wells turned at the soft voice, smiling softly at the small girl that met his gaze, “couldn’t sleep?”

 

“I never can. You on watch?”

 

“Join me.” Wells patted the space next to him, hoping to calm the frightened girl.

 

“I had a nightmare.”

 

“hmmm”

 

“I… I have them every night. But… I think I found a way to make them stop.”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

-&-

 

Clarke laid on the ground, near a tree, the overhanging branches swaying softly in the darkness. Shivering against the cold Clarke turned to face the field to her right, every time she shut her eyes she saw him.

 

Dark curls and freckles, with brown eyes that were bursting with fear and dread and pain and anger. Watching as she pulled away from him, she could still feel it.

 

The tug of want pulled at her heart, she could feel the sensation throughout her body, and it tugged at her chest, small pinpricks running over her body, culminating at the marks on her arm.

 

The skin beneath the cloth that covered the marks, started to heat up and it felt as if she was burning, the sensation moving throughout her body, sighing loudly Clarke pulled at the jacket. Tugging it off roughly, Clarke nearly gasped when she saw how the blue marks seemed to glow in the moonlight.

 

The growing heat had lessened but the pinpricks continued to linger on her skin, and Clarke knew without a doubt that if she turned and faced the other way. That if she stood behind the tree at her back and walked straight, she would be with _him_ and the pinpricks along her body and the ache inside heart would stop.

 

Clarke turned again, this time facing the darkened sky above her. Clarke was unable to shake the feeling and she struggled to find sleep, what little sleep she did find was filled with dreams of _him._ Every time she dreamed of him Clarke forced herself to wake, refusing to dwell on the fantasies that her mind concocted.  

 

Standing in the early moving sun, Clarke ached, unsure of which way to turn. Her brain telling her to put as much space as possible between her and _him,_ but a part of her told her to go home; to Nyko, knowing that he missed her greatly when she was always gone. Finally the ache inside her grew stronger, the sensation in her body telling her – begging her to go to him.

 

-&-

 

Bellamy lay with his head against the side of the tent, the wind pushing against the side of the tent. The wind that was pushing against the fabric was loud and pounding, keeping Bellamy awake. As he turned from side to side, he felt the sensation move up his arm and across his torso; it made him itch and his skin crawl.

 

The sensation was indescribable and as he closed his eyes to rest, his thoughts were filled with blonde hair and blue eyes, which looked afraid and then cold as she turned and made to leave him alone with the body of one of his own.

 

Closing his eyes against the damning thoughts and the obnoxiously loud wind, Bellamy could almost see her, see them and see what they could be.

 

Facing the side of his tent, Bellamy felt as though she was there. That if he walked constantly in that one direction, he would find her. He’d be willing to do it to, if he knew that when he found her she wouldn’t leave again.

 

Just as Bellamy’s eyes drifted shut the screams echoed throughout the camp, and Bellamy was rushing out of his tent, towards the screams, nearly tripping on his own feet when he was faced with the scene in front of him.

 

-&-

 

The knife sliced through his hand, jumping back against the small girl’s attack. Wells jumped forward to grab at her hand, the blood from his open wound smearing across her hand and arm. Wells held her down, his knees digging into her chest as he grabbed at the knife, after snatching it from her hands, he heard the shouts and screams drawing closer to them.

 

The fight had drawn the attention from those closest to them, on guard: Miller. Bellamy, Finn and Octavia running from their tents near-by. Before Wells could process what was occurring around them, Miller had dragged his body away from Charlotte’s, throwing him down towards the ground. While Bellamy picked the small girl up from the ground, placing her smaller body behind his “what the hell is going on?”

 

Wells shook out his limbs, standing before them all. “Ask her, she’s the one who just jumped with a knife.”

 

Bellamy turned his gaze towards the ground, noticing the blood that was spread around the ground, and the knife haphazardly throw not far from them. Bellamy turned to face Charlotte, bending down to face her head on, “Charlotte, did you try to hurt Wells?”

 

At her small nod, Bellamy ran his hand through his hair, yanking on the curls slightly. “Why Charlotte?”

 

“I was just trying to slay my demons, like you told me.”

 

Wells slammed into Bellamy’s back, forcing him to turn around, “What the hell is she talking about?”

 

“She misunderstood me.” Bellamy turned back to face Charlotte, “Charlotte, that is not what I meant.”

 

Charlotte turned to face Wells, “I’m sorry.”

 

Wells hands twitched slightly if she hadn’t just tried to kill, he might feel inclined to comfort her. “Every night, I see him, your father. He kills my parents and… and I see his face and … and I wake up and I see yours. The nightmare never ends. The only way to make it end was… was to slay my demons. I had to.”

 

Charlotte turned her eyes towards Bellamy, pleading with him silently to understand.

 

Wells shook his head, groaning when he realized that he would forever live in the shadow of his father’s ‘legacy’.

 

“Do you see what this does Bellamy? What this ‘whatever the hell we want’ crap does?” He turned to face Wells, his eyes harsh and cruel when he met Wells.

 

“What do you suggest Jaha?”

 

“If we’re gonna survive down here, we can’t just live by whatever the hell we want. We need rules.”

 

Bellamy sneered at the words, “I swear to God, if you start preaching about how the people need to join together and –“

 

“No, for now. We make the rules. Okay?”

 

Wells saw the understanding in his eyes, but his gaze kept flicking back and forth to Charlotte, clearly protective of the young girl. “What happens with Charlotte?” His voice was careful, protective even. It was a side to Bellamy that Wells had never seen before.

 

Wells turned to look at the younger girl, his gaze turning to the other around them. Each of them looked unsure, “nothing, we keep a closer eye on her. She’s a scared child, she made a mistake.” Wells turned towards the young girl again, “you won’t try to kill me again?”

 

Charlotte softly shook her head; Bellamy leaned down picking up the knife from the ground and pocketed it himself. After sending Charlotte off, Bellamy turned to the others, leaving Wells for last. “That’s it?”

 

Wells shook his head, “for now, but we need to start discussing rules and enforcing them tomorrow.”

 

“There’ll be a lot of backlash.”

 

“They’ll have to get over it.”

 

While Bellamy dispersed those around them, Wells begun to move towards the Dropship, Finn soon caught up to him. Looking down at Wells’ hand, “Your gonna need some stiches?”

 

Wells brought his hand up to inspect the wound closer, noting that Finn was right. “Yer, because that’s going to be easy to do down here. I was hoping that the red paste were using on Jasper would help.”

 

Finn hummed easily in response, climbing up to the highest level of the Dropship, they were met with a sleeping Monty and Jasper. Wells began working on the wound, while Finn moved around behind him. Only flinching slightly when Octavia’s hands came out of nowhere to help wrapping the bandage around the wound.

 

Hours later when Wells could finally ignore the throbbing in his hand and the loud wind that hit the sides of the Dropship, Wells fell into a deep sleep.

 

Dreaming of a small girl with blonde curls and bright blue eyes, he dreamed of a girl with soft round features. A girl who giggled at his jokes, a small girl who he tried to teach to play chess, but instead she moved the pieces wherever she wanted, laughing at Wells when his face screwed up and he got angry, explaining that she needed to follow the rules.

 

Waking in the early morning, Wells stumbled outside the Dropship, as the early rays of sunshine filtered through the trees above them. As he walked through the camp, those around him mostly ignored him. Occasionally, he’d hear someone sneer and scoff at him, or he’d hear someone say a snide comment about his father. Watching Murphy boss around the small group that had begun to work on the construction of the wall.

 

“This section should be finished by tomorrow.” Wells stood to intercept when Murphy begun yelling at a boy, but Bellamy beat him there. As Charlotte walked off with Bellamy, Wells watched them leave before making his decision. He wasn’t his father, and it was time that these people knew that.

 

Wells stood, forcefully making his way towards the Dropship, once inside he stood next to Monty.

 

“Take mine.”

 

Octavia, Jasper and Finn looked up at him, Wells held his wrist up to indicate what he meant.   
  
Finn was the first to speak, “don’t Wells, your father-“

 

“MY father is the reason we’re all down here. Left for dead, with nothing.” Wells turned to face Monty, “he wanted us dead, let’s make it happen.”

 

As Monty worked on the wristband, Wells thought of the comments and sneers, of the young girl so afraid of his physical likeness to his father, she was willing to kill him, just to find some peace.

 

As the wristband released from his arm, he vaguely heard Monty say he got it. But Wells instead kept his focus on where the wristband had been, maybe the ground could be a new start for them, for him, a chance to move away from his father’s legacy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry (not sorry), I thought about killing Wells and I just couldn't do it!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay .. first of all. SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY, i cannot say how sorry I am for how long I made you all wait. Hopefully you all enjoy this chapter! Let me know what you think!
> 
> P.S, thank you to everyone who commented, gave kudos, subscribed and bookmarked. The feedback for this story has been amazing and I can't thank you all enough!
> 
> I promise not make you wait as long for the next chapter!!

As the signal terminated, the screens lit around the room, the loud beeping sound, repetitive as it echoed around the room.

 

“No! NO. No. No… Th- it can’t be.”

Abby gasped, her hand coming up to cover her mouth.

 

Thelonious would never forgive her after this; shaking her head she brought herself back up. “It doesn’t mean anything, it’s the first terminated signal in over a week. We can still assume that things are stabilizing on Earth. We should assume that. I need an analysis of Wells’ vital signs for the past two days.”

 

“Abby..”

 

“Just do it.”

 

-&-

 

Abby’s hands shook at she watched Raven work, pacing back and forth across the workroom.

 

Raven paused slightly, “Why are you helping me with this? What’s in it for you? You never told me.”

 

“My daughter.”

 

Raven’s face scrunched up, “you have a daughter?” Raven was sure that Abby had no children.

 

“I _had_ a daughter,” Abby froze, her eyes moving around the room focusing on anything but the other person in the room. “Her father was the man who stole a Dropship.”

 

Raven paused, “suicide by earth?”

 

Abby hesitated before she responded, “he took her with him.”

 

“No one ever said anything about a little girl-“  


“We kept it quiet.”

 

“How could he do that?” Raven’s voice was indignant and rough with emotion, for a girl who had endured a mass amount of horror and neglect in her lifetime, even after everything, she couldn’t imagine her mother killing herself and taking her along for the ride.

 

“He knew about the air supply issues,” at Raven’s sharp turn, Abby forged on. “He was trying to save her.”

 

Raven swallowed the information, turning down to look at her hands as she worked, “… and what? You think you can find her.”

 

Abby was silent for a moment, “No, Jake was an engineer, he would have found a way to make contact.” Abby’s upper lip stiffened, “there both long gone by now.”

 

“Then why?”

 

“Because I need to know- I need to know that the last thing my daughter saw was something beautiful, - something good.”    

 

Raven noticed Abby’s lack of attention, and allowed the moment to pass until Abby was once again pacing across the workroom.

 

“Abby, how about I pace in the operating room next time you’re working?”

 

Abby stilled, preparing to respond when they were interrupted by Jackson’s voice , “Abby, did you take morphine from the clinic?”

 

“They inventoried already?”

 

“No. Kane was just here. He’s on his way to Mecha to arrest both of you right now. You gave Nygel morphine?”

 

Abby shook, turning towards Raven, “she turned me in. How much longer?”

 

“Twenty minutes.”

 

“They’re gonna be here in five. No matter what happens, you launch that pod. Do you understand?”

 

Raven halted her movements, “I won’t go without you.”

 

“Only one of us needs to get to the ground, Raven. The second you find those kids, you radio back. Three hundred innocent people will die if you don’t.”

 

“They’ll float you,” Abby’s own face softened in response to Raven’s obvious care.

 

“Then they’ll float me.” Turning back to face Raven, “when you get there, make sure you see something good for me.”

 

Raven gave Abby a tight smile, “I’ll tell you all about it.”  


-&-

 

Watching Wells exit the Dropship Bellamy held back the smirk that twitched at the corner of his face, his wristband gone and his bare arm clear for everyone to see. Bellamy wasn’t the only one to take notice, others around the camp stopped what they were doing to watch him pass, motioning to those around them to look in his direction too.

 

Bellamy turned back to his work, working his way along the wall to check it was stable and well built.

 

Carefully thinking over the eventful morning they had all had. Thankful that despite the side along glares and whispers, a majority of the group had taken the news about the rule changes early in the morning quite well. The grounders attack on Jasper had scared everyone enough to listen to Bellamy, as rumors quickly spread about Wells’ attack last night and his early morning removal of the wrist band, which only helped to reinforce the need for rules and the groups understanding for them.

 

But while the Delinquents seemed to comply easily enough with the changes, they continued to offer him side-glances, each person he passed trailing their eyes down his arm to stop on the marks that twirled and danced around his fingers and up his hand. Each person’s glance, holding a questioning stare.

 

Walking towards a gap in the wall, Bellamy indicated for Miller to come closer, “I’m going hunting.”

 

Miller turned his head slightly to left, “Want me to come with you?”

 

“No,” Bellamy’s response was terse and rough.

 

Coughing to ease the awkward tension, Miller silently eyed him up and down, when his eyes settled on his hand Bellamy gruffly pulled it away from his line of sight.

 

“You shouldn’t go alone.”

 

Bellamy turned and hoped that his sneer was enough to deter Miller from even thinking about following him. Stepping outside the wall, Bellamy began walking away from the camp.

 

-&-

 

Clarke rolled her shoulders, letting it work out the cricks. Despite the fact she’d told herself to go home, had even convinced herself that it was the right thing to do.

 

Going home would mean she could keep track of Indra’s plans, make sure that _him_ and the others were safe from her plots and Nyko would be happy to see her. Anytime she made to move towards her home, she found her steps dwindling and her body turning in circles, until she was once again moving towards _his_ camp.

 

Clarke had finally settled down against the ground, closer to the camp then she should be. But she considered herself relatively safe; she was far enough way that Clarke didn’t believe she’d run into any of them. Pulling her bag from around her back, she moved her hand through the rough material until she found what she was looking for.

 

Pulling the small bundle of fabric out of the bottom of her bag, tugging at the ratty remains of fabric that barely managed to hold itself together. Once released two items fell into her lap, gently picking up the watch that once sat around her Ark father’s wrist and placing it back into the tatted fabric. Clarke gently picked up the second item, twisting it between her fingers.

 

The item was small and black, covered in small marks and indentations from her constant need to carry it with her. While Clarke couldn’t remember why it was important to her, from the moment she found it in her pocket on the day she landed here of earth, she’d been unable to part from it.

 

For weeks, Clarke had grasped the small item and her father’s watch between her hands at night, softly crying into the furs she slept on, until she’d decided to lock away the memories of the Ark, and embrace her life on earth. The two items had been tucked away and left in her cabin for years, until Clarke was called away to be an advisor for Lexa. A small part of Clarke that she had always tried to ignore had nagged at her, until she had dug through her small possessions and placed the items in her bag to carry with her always.

 

The name for the piece she currently held, was sitting on the tip of her tongue. But while her words failed her, the nagging sensation at the bottom of her neck pulled at her memories and managed to pull forth one name; Wells.

 

Clarke unwillingly smiled, as a memory played out within her mind. Of a small dark-skinned boy helping her move many pieces across a board, his small face scrunching up when she touched them, and pushed them into the ‘wrong’ places.

 

She could see it now, the similarities between the small boy in her mind and the one from the other day. The same crinkles forming on his face during tense situations, the small twitch of his left eye when he concentrated. Clarke smiled gently at the old memory, until it was replaced by the vision of the same boy; this time older, harsher, and with a gun in his hand. A severe look on his face, as his hand refused to shake, holding a gun towards her face.

 

Placing the piece back into the fabric, wrapping it gently and putting it back into the bottom of her bag.

 

Clarke frowned, tugging at the cloth across her arm. Jerking when her fingers grazed the skin across her arm that was covered in twirls and marks. It seemed that when the Dropship landed on earth, it not only gave her a soulmate but friends and memories that she would have preferred to have left behind.

 

The air begun to frizzle and Clarke’s eyes were drawn upwards, squinting upwards against the sun, until she noticed the quickly falling object.

 

It landed hard and fast, crashing down into the ground.

 

Sighing deeply, Clarke pulled her body up and began to track the path she would need to take.

 

-&-

 

Bellamy ran towards the pod, wrenching the heavy door open to gaze inside. He drew back slightly at the sight that he was met with, there was blood smearing the screen of the helmet inside, Bellamy steadied himself looking around the small compartment.

 

A radio crackled, voices growing louder drawing his attention.

 

Panting and gasping at the implications of what this could mean, Bellamy made to snatch the device from inside the pod. As his hand reached the radio, the earth crackled and moved behind him, yanking it out and dropping it to the ground while he turned around to face the intruder.

 

Bellamy jumped turning to face the intruder, slamming their body back against the pod, holding a knife against their throat. The burning sensation that ripped through his body forced his mind to register whom exactly his hand was gripping; she was tensed under his grip. Bellamy’s hand immediately loosened, dropping his hand down but he continued to hold his body close to hers.

 

Finding himself lost within the depths of her blue eyes, “you’re here.”

 

“Bellamy,” the soft whisper of his name shattered something in him, but the small hitch at the corner of his mouth pulled him back together and then his head was curled in her neck. It forced his body into an awkward position, leaned down so far to accommodate her small stature. Her hands pushed at his chest, Bellamy’s own hands refused to release her waist but he pulled back enough to view her face.

 

“Are they alright?” Her head gestured to the pod, Bellamy nearly shuttered at her voice, forcing himself to focus on the words she was saying and not the movement of lips.

 

“I don’t- don’t know,” stuttering gently over his words, his eyes tracking the movement of her eyes as they focused on the pod and not him. She wriggled away from his grasp, turning herself to look at the person inside.

 

Bellamy’s foot knocked against the radio, when he stepped to the side. “I’m going to get some others-“ he stopped talking at her startled look, “I’ll need some help to take them back to the camp.”

 

She turned away from him, instead focusing on the person in the suit before her, Bellamy’s steps faltered, the radio grasped tightly behind his back. ”Will you still be here when I get back?”

 

She refused to meet his eyes for too long and the smile on her face was tense and twitchy, the radio in his hands felt heavy and rough but the burning in his fingers and hand almost threatened to make him forget it. When her focus stayed elsewhere, Bellamy turned, his heart pounding as he ran to dispose of the radio and return to the blonde before she had the chance to escape again.

 

-&-

 

Bellamy’s breath came faster, the radio was gone and he was almost back to the pod he hoped that she was still there.

 

But his mission was interrupted as a body slammed into him, “Bellamy! What the hell are you doing?”

 

Bellamy turned to grasp Octavia’s arms, blocking the path between her and the pod. “Go back to camp. It isn’t safe.”

 

“You just want whatever’s in that pod.”

 

Shoving Octavia back slightly, Bellamy stumbled, “I did this for you! To protect you. If the Ark finds out we’re alive, they’ll come down. And when they do… I’m dead.”

 

Octavia pulled herself away from the hands that grasped her arms, “what did you do?”

 

Forcing himself to focus, Bellamy shuttered at the memory, “I shot him.” Pushing his hands through the curls at the top of his head, “I shot Jaha.”

 

“What?”

 

“I found out they were sending you to Earth. I couldn’t let you go alone. Someone came to me with a deal. Do this, kill him, and they’d get me on the Dropship. And I did it.”

 

Octavia’s face drained of colour, but before she could respond they were interrupted by none other then Wells and pretty boy. Despite the situation, Bellamy still managed to roll his eyes, at the boy’s hair flounce and stance next to his sister.

 

“What did you do Bellamy? Have you already found the pod?”

 

Bellamy straightened his stance, refusing to let them reach the blonde on the other side of the ridge just behind them.

 

Octavia noticed his movement, turning to speak to the others, “we’re close. But I think we may be too late.”

 

When they all made to move forward, Bellamy darted forward, until Wells was forced to hold Bellamy back. Allowing Octavia and pretty boy the opportunity to make it to the pod. “Wait, Stop!”

 

Running after them, Bellamy was surprised at the sight that met him. A young girl was spinning in the grass next to pod, while his soulmate stood with her back against the pod, a small smile playing on her lips while she watched the girl laugh.

 

“Raven!” Pretty boy ran towards the girl, “Finn!”

 

“I knew you couldn’t be dead.”

 

While the two embraced the rest focused on the blonde next to the pod, her body had tensed and she was eyeing Octavia carefully now, moving her gaze between her and Wells.

 

“Your head?” Finn’s words broke the stare.

 

Raven nodded to indicate the girl behind her, leaning against the pod. “It’s okay, she fixed it.”

 

“How did you get here?”

 

“You know that big scraphold? The one of K deck?”

 

“You built that from scrap?”

 

Octavia spoke before Bellamy could, “excuse me, but could we focus on the grounder?!” Her voice grew louder, pleading with someone else to react, but when no one did, her eyes focused instead on Bellamy. Who was intently watching the movement of the blonde, the look on his face was tense and the quiver in his jaw showed his nerves.

 

Octavia turned back to face her, “is she?” Her eyes flicked between her brother and the grounder.

 

However, Raven staggered and fell towards the ground, the blonde rushing forth to help her sit. Raven turned her head up to face her, confusion clear on her face, “grounder?”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone for the comments/feedback, kudos, subscriptions and bookmarks. The support and feedback has been overwhelming! (In a completely amazing way!!)
> 
> Alright here's a new chapter, hopefully you all enjoy it! Let me know what you think!
> 
> Fair warning: I'm going overseas for about 6 weeks, Im hoping to still be able to write just might not be as much!

Clarke’s arms held Raven steady, gently lowering her to the ground. Noticing the looks she was receiving from her, Clarke quickly receded her arms not wanting to alarm her more then she already was.

 

“Grounders-“ Clarke turned away at her questioning voice. “How is that even possible?”

 

Finn was quick to respond, “Turns out just because the Ark told us that it was impossible for anyone to survive on the ground, doesn’t mean it’s true. There’s heaps of them,” Finn threw a look towards Clarke. “Some of them are not so kind.”

 

Clarke noticed the looks that statement garnered from those around her; clearly not everyone was in agreement about Finn’s thoughts on her. Wells was watching her movements intently, tracking her steps as she moved away from them slowly. Clarke managed to catch his eyes, the taste of his name clear on her tongue. But his eyes were dark and stormy and there was not an ounce of recognition there, at least not that she could see.

 

Clarke didn’t realize how focused they were on each other until an arm was moving to wrap around her waist, holding her in place.

 

It sent a tingle through her spine, the sharp sensation moving through her body until it felt like her body was on fire. Clarke’s head turned sharply towards Bellamy, his eyes were soft and pleading. Begging her to stay with everything he had.

 

“Please don’t go.”

 

He paused slightly between each word, adding an earnest and imploring undertone to the sentence. It tore at a part of Clarke she’d long thought was gone and forgotten.

 

The girl he’d arrived with spoke then, interrupting the small moment between them that she was unable to move past.

  
“It’s her, isn’t it? She’s – she’s her!”

 

Her voice was soft and her eyes imploring, and Clarke found herself cracking under the gaze.

 

“Yer, it’s her.” He spoke in a soft whisper. His eyes flicking quickly over her face, assessing each inch again and again as if memorizing her features. Just waiting for her to leave again.

 

“We have to move from here, I only got here so fast because I was close. We’ve been here too long, others will be coming.” She directed the last part to the rest of the group, begging them to trust her.

 

Raven stood fast, “We need to contact the Ark, this wasn’t just my plan. A Council member helped me; we couldn’t wait for you to make contact. The council is voting whether to kill three hundred people to save air.

 

Clarke’s eyes widened, “They’d- “ Clarke swallowed down her words. “Your people wouldn’t kill their own.” Without knowing why, she found herself searching for Bellamy’s gaze, hoping for reassurance. “They wouldn’t, would they?”

 

The drop in his face, gave her the answer.

 

Wells spoke before Clarke could speak again, “When?”

 

“Today. We have to tell them you’re alive.” Each of them ran back to the pod, Clarke made to move but Bellamy’s arm kept her in place. His grip was tightening around her waist, his gaze focused intently on those rushing towards the pod but his gaze flicked every so often in the other direction.

 

Raven’s voice travelled over the distance between them, breaking the silence.

 

-&-

 

“The radio’s gone,” Bellamy froze at Raven’s words, realizing they had to know it was him. His grip tightened, unable to control the reflex.

 

Because then Wells was in his face, “it was you! Where is it?”

 

“What are you talking about?” Bellamy sneered, making sure to look down at Wells. It was obviously the wrong thing to do, because then Wells was rearing backwards, an arm lifting towards his face.

 

Before he even made to move forward, she was pushing him backwards, reaching forth to grab at Wells’ hand forcing it away from them.

 

Wells eyes were dark and furious, this time focused on the girl standing in front of him.

 

“They’re getting ready to kill three hundred people to save oxygen, and I can guarantee you it won’t be council members. It’ll be working people,” stepping closer Wells was once again deterred by the small blonde standing in front of him. “Your people,” directing the words towards Bellamy.

 

Bellamy refused to speak, Wells eyes turned towards the girl in front of him. “Are you really going to stand by while _his_ responsible for the death of three hundred people?”

 

She refused to comment, but Bellamy could feel her body tense, and Bellamy shuttered when he felt it, knowing what she must think of him.

 

“Bellamy please, where is it?” Octavia’s gentle voice, imploring him to fix what he’d done.

 

When all she received was a stony look, suddenly he was shoved from the side by the girl from the pod. “Their looking everywhere for you.”

 

Finn spoke then, “why?”

 

Bellamy attempted to stand tall, as they spoke. Raven shot forward to answer the question, “He shot Chancellor Jaha.”

 

Finn scoffed, “All the ‘whatever the hell you want’? You were just protecting your own skin!”

 

“Where’s my radio?”

 

This time his soulmate didn’t jump in front of him, and Bellamy found himself searching for the blonde. He found her turned away from them, her gaze hazy and unsure. “Hey! – HEY! Look at me!” Bellamy’s eyes were able to move, instead he found himself searching for her blue eyes, begging them to understand, even if he couldn’t explain why he’d done what he’d done.  

 

When her eyes remained glazed and unsure Bellamy almost welcomed the knife against his neck, “WHERE’S. MY. RADIO?”

 

The knife digging into his throat didn’t sting, as much as the look in the blue eyes staring right at him, he’d almost given up when she was once again pushing in between him and Raven. “Stop.”

 

The yelling around him was drowned out when she turned to face him, her hand gently running over his features to check for damage. Her small hand lightly pausing at the small wound Raven had managed to inflict on his neck. Gripping his face, she pulled his face down closer towards her own. “Bellamy, tell them what they want to know.”  
  
“Please, three hundred people depend on it.” Bellamy refused to budge, she didn’t understand why he had no choice in this, why he _couldn’t_ tell them. “Whatever you did. Nothing will haunt you more then being the reason that innocent people die.”

 

Her hand gently moved across his face, gripping at his neck to force him to level his eyes with hers. “Trust me.”

 

Her blue eyes were beginning to swim with unshed tears. Pleading with him to understand what she was saying.

 

“It’s too late.”

 

Her intense exhale had his heart racing, “please.”

 

-&-

 

Octavia watched Bellamy while she waded through the water; the only sound around them was the kids from the camp moving through the water. The implications of what could happen weighing heavy on everyone shoulders.

 

Octavia and Wells had returned to camp to find more help, while Bellamy lead the others to the river where he’d throw the radio. By the time everyone had made it to the river, Bellamy’s soulmate appeared to be long gone and from the looks of it so was the radio.

 

Sighing deeply, Octavia attempted to draw Bellamy into a conversation. “Bellamy,” his face was withdrawn and solemn.

 

“Yes O?”

 

“Did she say she’d be back?”

 

It must have been the wrong question to ask because unexpectedly Bellamy was looming over her, his gaze hard and angry in a way Octavia had never seen directed towards her before. “No Octavia. In the lengthy and intensive conversations we’ve had, her ability to disappear and reappear in my life wasn’t one of them.”

 

Unsure of how to reply, Octavia turned to continue to help with the search, Bellamy stood to the side, regarding the kids with a dark and unforgiving stare.

 

“Hey! I found it!” Everyone ran over to take a look at the damaged radio, Raven was the first to reach the kid who spoke, grabbing it from his hands.

 

“Can you fix it?” Raven looked up at Octavia’s question, her face scrunched up in concentration.

 

“Maybe, but it’s going to take at least half the day to dry out all the components to even see what’s broken.”

 

“Like I said, it’s too late.”

 

Octavia turned towards Bellamy, his tone making the hair on the back of her neck stand up. “Bellamy!”

 

But before she could stop the situation from escalating, Wells was already moving forward to confront him. “Do you have any idea what you did?” Wells slammed his body against Bellamy’s. “Do you even care?”

 

He refused to respond; instead he stared down at Wells, a serve lack of emotion clear on his face.

 

There was a loud murmur working its way through the crowd.

 

“Hold up. We don’t have to talk to the Ark. We just have to let them know we’re down here.”

 

Raven’s face looked thoughtful and everyone surround her slowly, hoping for an answer to the problem they faced now.

 

-&-

 

“We’ve waited as long as possible.”  
  
Abby refused to accept the statement, they couldn’t do this, there had to be another way.

 

“There are things we can do to buy us time. We should reconsider forcing an algae bloom to boost oxygen production – “

 

Thelonious Jaha kept his eyes on the tablet in front of him, “You’ve read the studies. That would only contaminate the water supply.”

 

Flustered and growing irritated with Thelonious, Abby begun to grasp at any thought she could, “we can induce people into comas to reduce their resource consumption.”

 

“We’ve gone through all the possibilities. This is the only solution.”

 

Thelonious’ continual dry tone grated on Abby’s nerves, his lack of concern for what was about to be done struck a cord inside of her. “We can’t do this.”

 

“I’m doing what is right.”

 

“No you’re running away. You think what you’re doing is right, but you’re a coward.” Abby turned her back to him, “How are you going to explain this to Wells? How are you going to tell your son that you let these people die without doing everything in your power to save them?”

 

Thelonious stood then, forcing Abby to turn and face him. “I don’t have to explain my actions to you or my son, you made sure of that when you sent my son to the ground. Kill- “

 

“We don’t know that his dead, I told you it’s possible that his simply taken of his wristband.”

 

Thelonious leaned down to rest his head against his hand, his body seeming to sag under the weight of his emotions. “Enough Abby,” his voice was rough and dull. “My son is dead and so is your daughter, she’s not waiting down there for you, this has gone on too long. Earth is not livable and we killed our children trying to find out.”

 

Abby found herself unable to speak, her throat slowly closing over, Abby rushed to exit the room. Moving towards her own quarters before falling against the closed door to break down, the sobs wrecked her entire body, jolting her body and leaving her breathless.

 

When it felt as though her throat was too tight and her eyes were barely able to open, the skin tight and rough when she blinked Abby finally moved further into the room.

 

Finding her tablet that she had locked away many years ago, Abby focused on the image in front of her. Although grainy and rough, Abby could describe every inch of the image without even looking, her daughter sitting between her husband’s legs, both of them smiling up at the camera, sharing the same bright look on their face.

 

A slight smile was working its way onto her face; Abby stared longingly at her daughter’s small features. Trying to imagine what she would look like now, wondering if her eyes would have still been as blue, if her hair would still have been as blonde. If she’d look more like her father or if Abby would be able to recognise herself in her daughter.

 

Swiping the image away, Abby smiled gently when the video appeared before her. Jake looking just as she remembered, a twinkle in his stare that spoke of a brighter future.

 

As Abby made her way towards the control room, Abby let herself look at the image of Clarke and Jake again. Letting the smile overtake her face, as she connected the video to the screens around the Ark, Abby continued to stare at the image.

 

“People of the Ark, today I need to talk to you about out future. The things I need to tell you are serious…”

 

The video played in the background, Abby refused to turn away from the picture. Unable to risk losing even a second of what little time she had left, saving what could possibly be the last few minutes of her life. Unable to regret what she was doing, not even the thought of floating could make her regret this. Abby was going to be with her daughter, running her fingers across the screen Abby whispered gently, “I’ll see you both soon.”

 

-&-

 

Clarke sat further up a tree, overlooking the Dropship, higher then was strictly safe, the tree branches swayed under her weight. Clarke leaning forward slightly, seeing if she could catch a glimpse of Bellamy, but the area was dark, the fire they were building burn bright enough to light the area, but not enough for Clarke to make out much more.

 

They were rushing around the camp, Clarke wondered what that meant, and she hoped they were able to find the radio. The thought of three hundred people dying weighing heavily on her mind.

 

Clarke knew what it was like to be responsible for death, and when she thought about the Mountain Men she couldn’t find it within herself to regret her actions. She had saved her people from death and torture; she had saved Lincoln, but when she closed her eyes and thought of Maya and the people who had helped her, of the small children holding hands in the hallways. She wandered if the weight of those deaths against the weight of those who she considered truly evil was worth it.

 

It was the innocent deaths that haunted you. Clarke didn’t want Bellamy to have to live with this mistake; she could sense that it would break him.

 

The sky was ignited with light.

 

Clarke watched the Skaikru rush around, lightening more, leaving the sky bright and a trail of light moving across the night sky.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright the long awaited next chapter, I am so extremely sorry for the wait. I will attempt to reduce the wait period between chapters! (Notice I said ATTEMPT)
> 
> Anyway, let me know what you think! As you've probably noticed, the story so far has quite closely coincided with the show. Thats about to change!

Clarke moved carefully around the camp, watching as the kids moved from corner to corner, within the confines of their walls. Their movements were careful and quiet, it was odd to see them in such a state.

 

Clarke was cautious with her footfalls, ensuring that she left no trace of her movements behind her. But in her eagerness to find Bellamy, she found herself less concerned with watching where she went and more concerned with finding a way to contact Bellamy. She needed to know if they had succeeded, or if the Skaikru had killed their own.  

 

Through the gaps in the wall, Clarke saw movement again. The calm that once held the delinquents in a state of stillness was now gone, Clarke frowned at their frenzied movements.

 

Something was wrong.

 

Moving quickly around the wall, Clarke prayed for a glance at Bellamy. Just to see if he was okay. Catching sight of their heavenward glances, she turned towards the darkened sky.

 

“No, no. They didn’t make it.” Her shoulders slumped, and her heart ached because he would never forget this and it would weigh on him more then he could ever believe.

 

Clarke turned and moved as quietly as possible away from their camp, keeping her movements fast and quick. Putting as much distance between them as fast as she could.

 

-&-

Bellamy huffed as he made his way through the camp, the silence was overwhelming, the camp had basically stilled in the wake of Raven’s information. The spark of hope that had kept them warm and moving throughout the course of the night and the set up of the flares, had quickly died when the flares were gone and the light above them was now far from sight.

 

Octavia had disappeared not long after the delinquents had slowly dispersed from the gathering around the middle of camp, where the flares had once stood.

 

His irritation had grown tenfold over the course of his repeated trips around the camp. The now dark sky only added to his irritation, gathering everyone around Bellamy confirmed that everyone was listening before he spoke.

 

“Everybody, gather round and grab a weapon. My sister’s been out there alone for hours. Arm up. We’re not coming back without her.”

 

Eyeing the group of children around him, Bellamy groaned when realized whom he needed. “Finn. Get out here.”

 

The group’s movement was interrupted by shouts from across the camp.

 

“Look at that! Their beautiful!” Bellamy pushed past the girls, who were preening at the sky.

                                                                                                              

“They didn’t work. They didn’t see the flares.”

 

Bellamy sneered turning towards Raven, “a meteor shower tells you that?”

 

Raven’s face was harsh when she responded, “it’s not a meteor shower, it’s a funeral. Hundreds of bodies being returned to the earth from the Ark. This is what it looks like from the other side.”

 

-&-

 

Raven’s words had haunted him throughout the search for Octavia. When a majority of the others had turned back, leaving him alone with just a small group now, Bellamy’s mind had begun to wander.

 

Perhaps this was his punishment for what he’d caused, perhaps losing his sister would be the price he’d have to pay. The thought made Bellamy sick, and trudged up memories of his mother’s words; ‘Your sister, your responsibility.’

 

As grounders surrounded them, Bellamy shuttered when the group had begun to spilt. Losing sight of those who had chosen to follow him, even after what he’d done.

 

“We shouldn’t have crossed the boundary.”

 

“Now can we go back?”

 

Bellamy ignored them, as they spoke behind him. Instead preferring to focus on the open woods, which surrounded them. But his intend to ensure their safety was too late, they were already being attacked again.

 

It was only as arrows went whizzing past them and axes were thrown that Bellamy realized grounders had been following them for quite a while now, their intend had been to force them into the small open area they now occupied.

 

His heart was pounding and sweat made his hair stick to his forehead, they were being cornered and it didn’t sit well with Bellamy. “Enough! I’m tired of running.”

 

Everyone turned to face him now, as if waiting for his orders. Turning to watch each member of what was left of the group around him, Bellamy noticed they were missing more members now.

 

“We can’t keep running, we have to do something.” Although no one seemed to disagree, no one offered any ideas either.

 

“They’re playing with us.”

If they weren’t near death, Bellamy would be tempted to snort and roll his eyes at Finn’s obvious statement.

 

“They can kill us whenever they want.”

 

Jasper fevered shouting brought them closer, drawing the grounders out from their hiding places. Their intend of their movements clear, as they continued to come closer.

 

As suddenly as fast as they appeared, they disappeared into the trees moving quickly into the depths of the forest, where neither Bellamy nor the others could make out their figures. “They’re leaving.”

 

Jasper’s wide eyes, watched their movements, his stare moving quickly around the area in which they stood. “That horn. What does it mean?”

 

“Acid fog”

 

“We have to run.”  
  
“There’s no time.”

 

 

As they hid beneath the thin sheet, Bellamy neck begun to prick. A deep sensation tickling at his skin and forcing him to shift position, in an attempt to find comfort.

 

His agitation must have been clear to the others, as his fidgeting drew their attention, each of them worrying that his continual movements would hinder the others or potentially cause them all harm.

 

It was only as they begun to shove and scold him, that it hit him.

 

Finally realizing what the sensation meant Bellamy sighed, ripping the sheet that covered them away from them and freeing them from their lackluster containment.

 

Ignoring the shouts of terror from the others, Bellamy immediately looked up into the light blue eyes that haunted his dreams. The dark colours and swirls of paint covered most of her face and made her look harsh and cruel. But then she was reaching down towards him, her warm hands wrapping around his to pull him up until they stood toe to toe, their bodies so close they were basically one.

 

“Come on. Your sisters waiting.” The grip on his hand never wavered and Bellamy struggled to focus on her words.

 

But then she was tugging on his hand and his was helpless to her whims and was unable to stop himself from following her. Bellamy distantly heard the others behind him, calling his name and carefully following his soulmate and him.

 

But her grip was tight and her hand warm, her hair blew gently in the wind, the tips of it touching his chest as left less than a step between them.

 

-&-

 

Clarke refused to smile at the way he gripped at her hand.

 

She’d tugged her own hand a few times, in attempt to force a semblance of distance between them. She’d logically concluded that she should put some distance between her and the Skaikru, so that if anyone were to see them, she could at least have a chance to create a lie about her choice of companions.

 

Bellamy had refused to let go, instead gripping tighter every time she tugged. Until Clarke admitted that there was no one around, she’d made sure of that when she blew Lincoln’s horn.

 

Besides his hand was firm and warm and just rough enough to grate against her skin in a way that she enjoyed.  

 

Stopping just shy of Lincoln’s hideaway, Clarke turned to face Bellamy head on.

 

“I promise you that she’s fine,” at Bellamy’s continually hazing look, Clarke found herself reaching forth to tug at his jawline. “Your sister-“ that seemed to shake him from his thoughts, and was enough to let Clarke know she could release his jaw, even if it was extremely soft, with just enough scuff to scratch against her fingers.

 

“She’s fine. He found her, and bought her to me to help her.” That seemed to be enough to completely shake him of their unspoken connection.

 

“Octavia? Is she okay? Why did she need your help?” Clarke noticed that even though his thoughts and focus were elsewhere, he continued to watch her with a gleam to his eyes that she couldn’t quite comprehend.

 

“She’s fine Bellamy, she fell and hurt herself. My friend found her, and brought her to me to help her.”

 

Clarke turned then, rotating to make her way down through the small cave’s entry.

 

It was only once the group had made their way into the cave that Clarke’s hand was finally free, and despite the way she’d yanked at her hand earlier, she found the release wasn’t quite as satisfactory as she first believed it would be. Her palm was slightly sweaty, it made Clarke frown, and she still wished she were still holding his hand.

 

Bellamy was running towards Lincoln and Clarke found her mind unable to function, still quite preoccupied with her sweaty palms.

 

“Bellamy, stop. He didn’t hurt me.”

 

But it was too late fists were already flying, Clarke frowned at the way in which Bellamy had flown off the handle. Confused and unsure, at least until she noticed that his sister was now chained to the wall, his actions now more understandable.

 

“Bellamy stop! Please!”

 

Octavia’s words were useless, Clarke pushed between them. Turning her frustration on Lincoln.

 

“Chit laik yu doing?” _What are you doing?,_ Clarke nodded her head towards Octavia, clearly indicating what she was speaking about.

 

“Em tried kom bants when em woke.” _She tried to leave when she woke._

Lincoln was slowly circling the group; Clarke could easily gage his target. Placing himself between her and the Skaikru and ultimately closer to his weapons.

 

Clarke slapped her hand against Lincoln, feeling for the keys to release Bellamy’s sister. “Yu could don just told her chon yu were.” _You could have just told her who you were._

 

“Sorry about Lincoln, he doesn’t-“ Clarke struggled with what she wanted to say, “ doesn’t have the greatest people skills.”

 

Clarke was greeted with a small smile from Octavia, “I noticed that.”

 

Releasing her from the chain, Clarke moved to check her wound again before she turned towards Bellamy. “You should take her back to your camp, she’ll need rest.”

 

Clarke looked up then, taking note of Bellamy’s tense features and angry face. The others were slowly leaving and Clarke moved forward to grasp at Bellamy’s hand again, but he moved away before she could make contact, his eyes moved back and forth between Clarke and Lincoln.

 

“Do you need me to help you make it back to your camp?”

 

He flinched away from her hands, instead focusing on his sister. When he finally responded his tone was angry and heated, “no.”

 

Despite his refusal, Clarke followed them out slightly; at least until Bellamy’s continual frosty looks stopped her from following. Leaving her alone in the woods, she vaguely wandered if Bellamy had felt the same ache in his chest each time he watched her walk away.

 

-&-

 

Bellamy gently placed Octavia down in the dropship, he distantly heard Raven and Wells voices as they discussed ways in which they could attempt to contact the Ark.

 

That was the least of his problems.

 

“Why’d you leave her?”  
  
Refusing to answer, Bellamy moved around to find something for Octavia to lay on, which could prod her leg into a safe and comfortable position.

 

“She looked broken… when you left her there.” Octavia’s words were softer then any others he’d ever heard from her before.

 

That stopped him, as a fleeting memory of her blue eyes looking gently at his movements surfaced in his mind. It was only disrupted by the memory of his little sister chained to a wall, covered in dirt and blood. Then the memory of the grounders murdering them, one by one, chasing them through the woods, while they were completely defenseless.

 

“She was only helping me, _his_ the one that chained me.”

 

“Really says something about _them,_ doesn’t it?!” His voice could have shook the metal that surround them, everyone’s eyes now turned towards them.

 

“He only did it because I freaked when I woke and she was gone.”

 

“Because that makes complete sense.”

 

“Oh shut up Bell. I don’t think he speaks English, you heard them speaking. I think- “ Octavia’s words were soft as she spoke. “I think he didn’t know what else to do.”

 

Never one to let someone else have the last word, “doesn’t make it right.”

 

He was in the mist of storming off when Octavia spoke again, “maybe you’re right, but it still wasn’t her. So I’m going to ask again. Why did you just leave her there?”

 

“What was I meant to do O? Bring her back to camp?”

 

Because that was the real problem here, he clearly wasn’t welcome in her world, if the way they were brutal attacked today was any indication and there’s no way the camp would welcome her in his.

 

That’s even she wanted to be in his world.

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, :/ But anyway... here's a new chapter! Woo! Let me know what you think!

 

 

Clarke swung her body down into the entryway of the cave, landing firmly on her feet.

 

Lincoln stood in front of her, his face contrite and waiting. The apology clear on his face, Clarke continued further into the cave, choosing to ignore the moment.

 

Lincoln’s movements were soft behind her.

 

Clarke gently removed the horn from around her, placing it down. There was a dark tightness that coiled in her throat and a sting in her eyes. Clarke attempted to blink the feeling away, afraid of what would occur if the feeling persisted.

                                                                                

“Klark –“

 

“Not now Lincoln,” her voice was hollow and muted.

 

“Nyko misses you when you’re gone.”

The change in topic was sudden, but Clarke understood what he was saying. Maybe she should go home, away from them, away from _him_.

 

Clarke frowned; the more time she spent watching the Skaikru, the more time she began to question where home was?

 

Her eyes turned skywards, only to be met with the dark, dirt walls of the cave, of the earth.

 

For years she’d never even thought of the Ark, convinced herself they were gone.

 

That her _home_ was gone, but to know that it wasn’t, but it would be soon.

 

Clarke shook herself out, if she’d stayed, would she still be up there, while Bellamy was on the ground.

 

Clarke grimaced at the thought, she’d die but at least they would have been on the same side.

But they might never have found each other, remembering the anger on his face and his back as he walked away.

 

At least he wouldn’t hate her.

 

Dropping to the ground onto a pile of furs, Clarke rolled in towards herself. Vaguely she realized she could no longer hear Lincoln’s movements, he must have gone, but Clarke stayed still, unsure of what she should do now.

 

Logically she knew that as some point she would have to return to TonDC, that she would have to send word to Polis; to Lexa. But what could she possibly say, without alerting Lexa or anyone else to recent _changes –_ Clarke’s head was inclined towards the markings on her arm, her thoughts flashed to Bellamy, what would they think of him and who newfound affiliation with the Skaikru.

 

-&-

 

“Where are you going?”

 

Bellamy froze at the words, “out. Hunting.”

 

“There’s a huge storm coming.”

 

Miller’s stare was harsh and unforgiving; he clearly did not believe Bellamy. But Bellamy refused to concede, standing firm in place. Miller was the first to blink, stepping back from Bellamy’s gaze. “You need to start getting everyone to collect supplies, reinforcing the wall. Make sure no one strays too far from the camp.”

 

“Alright.” Miller nodded, “See you soon.” Bellamy’s head shot up, _stay safe and come back,_ was what he meant.

 

Nodding firmly, Bellamy turned and left, the dark grey skies cloudy and gloomy. Much like Bellamy’s current mood.

 

The leaves crunched beneath his feet, soft enough that Bellamy’s could still clearly hear what was happening around him.

 

He was nearing the entry to the cave he’d found Octavia in. Bellamy’s chest constricted when the sensation that normally overcame him when near his soulmate was undoubtedly lacking. She wasn’t here. He didn’t have to enter to know that.

 

Bellamy’s thoughts drifted to the tanned grounder that he’d seen before, maybe he would know where she’d gone. Bellamy frowned when he remembered Octavia’s words about the grounder’s inability to speak English.

 

Scowling, Bellamy sulked away from the entry, instead moving further into the forest. The skies were growing darker and it cracked loudly in the distance, calling him deeper into the wilderness.

 

…

 

Black clouds were sprawled across the dark sky; there was a dark brassy glare of colour faintly flowing through the trees. The air was heavy and damp, the humidity pressed down on Bellamy’s shoulders, almost suffocating him. A sure sign of a large storm coming, there was stillness in the trees that only broke when a low crackle of thunder rolled across the sky. A fat drop of water splashed against Bellamy’s shoulder, before thousands of others followed.

  
The heavy downpour left Bellamy unable to see more then a foot in front of him.

 

“Bellamy!”

 

Bellamy jumped around, immediately turned to face the voice, his gun held up and ready, through the thick rain he finally saw her.

 

“I found you.”

He wondered if the reverence in his voice was as clear to her as it was to his own ears, based on the blank look she gave him, Bellamy didn’t think so.

 

There was a bright flash of lightening in the distance that lit up the sky around them.

 

Bellamy watched her lips moving quietly, and then a tinge of a smile graced her face when a loud bolt of thunder rolled through the sky.

 

“You should go back to your camp.”

 

Reaching forth Bellamy allowed himself to gently run a finger down the side of her face. She stilled under his fingertips but didn’t stop him from doing so.

 

“I don’t want to.”

 

She grasped his hand and pulled him further into the wilderness, “we should get out of the rain… en out gon sight gon tri kru.” She muttered the last bit under her breath, and Bellamy strained to hear it.

 

They’d entered a small cave; they had to squeeze in between two boulders, forcing Bellamy to release her hand. Without a second thought he’d grab her hand as soon as they were both free inside. It was dark and cold, and through the small slip of light that the opening allowed, he noticed her shiver.

 

Pulling her into his own personal space to keep her warm, she relaxed under his hands. But only for a moment before she was pulling away, collecting what little branches there were around the cave, creating a small fire, she lay down next to the fire and turned her body inwards to face the heat.

 

Bellamy still stood near the entry, feeling as if he was imposing upon her own private moment.

 

“You should sit near the fire and try to dry.”

 

Her voice broke through the silence, and Bellamy almost jolted in his quickness to seat beside her head. There was small smile on her face that lit up her face, Bellamy was vaguely aware that she was finding humor in his discomfort.

 

Something which normally angered him, but Bellamy found he didn’t mind her laughing at his expense, not when it made that little crease in forehead and the side of her lips lift upwards.

 

-&-

 

He was huddled in upon himself, clearly uncomfortable. It made Clarke frown and she couldn’t help but fidget, a habit Clarke believed she’d grown out of years ago.

 

There was a dark look on his face, intense and penetrating, his eyes turned on her. Clarke froze under his gaze.

 

“What’s your name?”

 

Clarke trembled beneath her coat, staring intently into the fire. She grimaced and was once again reminded about why Clarke had never given him her name before.

 

Biting down on her bottom lip, Clarke wandered if it would be too dangerous for him to know. In all honest, who would he tell?

 

Still, she was unsure if she was ready to give him her name, her real name at least.

 

 

“My people call me Wanheda.” Clarke tripped over the name, her heart beating a thousand times a minute, wishing she could claw the words back. She didn’t want him to know that name. Didn’t want to taint Bellamy with that name, but more importantly; she didn’t want him to say that name.

 

Clarke sat up, moving closer towards Bellamy. He face was drawn and downcast, and as his lips began to form her name, Clarke reached forward to grab at his arm, stopping him from continuing.

 

“Clarke”

 

His eyebrows pinched and he was clearly puzzled by her actions, and she knew she needed to elaborate. “My name is Clarke.”

 

Bellamy was clearly surprised by her words, but he seemed to beam at her soft tone and her hand.

 

“Clarke,” he said her name with such a reverence, a breathy tone that left her speechless.

 

She liked the way he said her name.

 

“Why do your people call you Wanheda?”

 

Clarke paled at his words, and Bellamy seemed to sense her tense and attempted to try and take back his words. But Clarke released him from her hands and turned to face the fire.

 

“It means Commander of death. It was given to me when I destroyed the mountain.” Clarke refused to look at him now, knowing that the disgust on his face could destroy her. A point that Clarke tried to deny, even to herself.

 

“The mountain?” His voice sounded curious and somewhat interested, but there was no disgust. It was clear he didn’t understand what she meant.  
  
“Mount Weather.”

 

“That’s where the supplies are.”

 

“There’s nothing there now, it’s a deadzone.”

 

“Nothing? What about electronic materials?”

 

He seemed to take her silence as confusion, or a lack of understanding about what he was asking for.

 

“Could you take me there? So I can see if there’s anything there I – my people can use.”

 

Clarke’s face dropped, her mind flashing to the hundreds of bodies that lay unmoving from the last time she’d been there.

 

“You can’t go there. No one can.”

 

“Why?”

 

Clarke stood suddenly, unable to find it within her to look at him as she spoke. “There’s nothing of use there. It was ravaged years ago.” The knowledge that she destroyed it, she left unsaid.

 

Clarke noticed his face drop slightly, his face now contrite and unsure.

 

“Fuck it. Fuck. FUCK!”

 

Clarke jumped as his voice echoed through the cave, loud and violent. Bellamy immediately noticed her jump, and took deep breaths to calm himself. Clarke kept her eyes on him, her stare sure and confident. Pleading with him to talk to her.

 

“We need a radio to contact them.” Bellamy pointed upwards to the sky.

 

Biting at her lip, Clarke realized that she just might do anything to stop him from frowning. She kept her steps even and careful until she dropped down next to him, reaching her arm out Clarke gently let her finger run across the twirls between his fingers.

 

He shuttered under her fingertips, his eyes running across her face. Finally releasing a deep breath he spoke. “I have to contact them, before its too late again.”

 

Clarke continued to let her fingers run across his skin.

 

“300 people died,” he eyes searched for hers, waiting for a reaction. “- because of me.”

 

Her fingers never stilled, she continued to run them gently along the twirls.

 

She’d done worse. Not that she’d tell him that.

 

“I’m a monster.” His words were breathy and subdued, as if only now realizing he himself believed the words.

 

The anguish and tears that filled his eyes surprised Clarke, threatening to overflow.

 

“You’re not a monster.” The whispered words darted between them in the little space that stood between them. Clarke knew monsters, and he wasn’t one.

 

“I’ve seen you with your people, they need you. You care for them. A monster wouldn’t do that.”

 

Bellamy didn’t look convinced, he tugged at his hand, but Clarke refused to relent. Instead she held tighter, “You did what you needed to do.”

 

He’d turned his body away from her, “you want forgiveness, fine, I’ll give that to you.”

 

Clarke wrapped her arms around his body, as he slowly sunk back into her open arms. “You’re forgiven, ok.”

 

He didn’t respond and Clarke had no more words, so with the hand that wasn’t twined with his, she twisted it slowly in his hair, humming softly a tune she hadn’t heard in years.

 

 

-&-

 

Bellamy woke alone, Clarke’s heat gone. But he’d never slept so soundly as he did the night before.

 

He was surprised when she entered the cave, expecting her to be long gone by now.

 

The colour around her eyes was bright and fresh, her hair twisted and coiled, strips of red running through the ends. She looked strong and fierce and not like her, he didn’t like it.

 

Bellamy grimaced when he realized why. _Wanheda._

 

Now he understood why she made such a point of distinguishing the two names.

 

“I might know somewhere that could have a radio.” Her words were forceful and low.

 

Following her through the exit and into the early morning sun, Bellamy realized in the light of day that the distance between them was large. Something had changed last night; they’d both felt it

 

Even if she couldn’t admit it.

 

Business it was then, “where?”

 

She lifted her shoulder and looked away, “I’ll take you there.”

 

“Where?”

 

“Another dropship, that came here years ago.”

 

Another dropship, what? When? Bellamy’s eyes widened.

 

 

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2 months.... what??? How did that happen?! Hahahaa.... seriously I am extremely sorry about that.
> 
> Anyway, I will try and be better about that. 
> 
> The response to this story as always is amazing, I honestly can't believe how everyone had responded to this story. It has absolutely shocked and amazed me. So thank you so much for that! 
> 
> As always, Let me know what you think!

Octavia groaned slightly when her leg jolted upon her landing, catching Finn’s eye when exiting the Dropship, Octavia couldn’t stop the slight eye roll.

 

Walking around the Camp, Octavia subtlety looked for Bellamy. It shouldn’t be _too_ hard, she’d just follow the sounds of discontent, doom and gloom.

 

A majority of the delinquents were focused on building a wall around the camp, or focused on sorting out food, a few still goofed off at the edge of their camp, but many of them were still working hard. Octavia wandered slightly if the darkness or strong work ethic that had suddenly overtaking the camp after the failed attempt to contact the Ark would last long.

 

Scoffing slightly, Octavia noticed Murphy leaning against a tree.

 

“Murphy!”

 

Murphy made a show of pushing himself off from the side of the tree, before running his eyes up and down Octavia’s figure. Smirking, he slapped the arm of one of the delinquents beside him, _Michael_ Octavia thought his name was.

 

Before Murphy finally sauntered his way towards her, Octavia resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the boys currently watching them, not for their sake, mostly for fear that she might one day be unable to stop them from rolling she did it so much lately.

 

“Where’s Bellamy?”  
  
“Believe it or not. I’m not your brother’s keeper. He tends to do what he wants, when wants.”      

 

“No Murphy, But I figured since you follow him around everywhere and seem to have something of a crush on him, you’d know where he is.” Octavia made a point of staring him directly in the eye, raising an eyebrow slightly, just daring him to respond. “I mean you may as well just admit your endless devotion to him.”

 

Murphy’s face soured considerable, “I’d never-.”

 

Octavia stayed long enough just to let him think she was willingly engaging him in conversation, but made a point of twisting on the spot and walking away when he began to speak.

 

Stomping around the camp, Octavia grew angrier, hoping that whatever he was doing, it wasn’t something stupid. Although odds were, being that it was Bellamy, it was probably something very stupid, Octavia paused slightly, _or_ some _one_ stupid. The thought discouraged Octavia, but she did cast a slight look at his vacant tent, just in case.   

 

“His hunting.”

 

Running her eyes across Miller’s form, Octavia frowned. “Hunting? When did he leave?”

 

Miller shrugged, “A while ago.”

 

Octavia sighed, knowing she would get nothing else from Miller. Trudging towards the perimeter of the camp, Octavia walked slightly outside the zone of the camp, that delinquents frequently patrolled.

 

Intending to wait for Bellamy to return, but regretting it immediately when a dark, dirty hand came out to wrap firmly around her mouth. Gripping tightly in warning, as the hand snatched her towards a tall, hard and waiting body.

 

-&-

Clarke rolled her shoulders, as they continued to tense at Bellamy’s questions. They’d been walking for almost two hours and he’d insisted on knowing everything he could about their destination and the dropship itself, the issue was that Clarke didn’t know what to tell him.

 

If she told him the truth, it would only bring up more questions, and Clarke didn’t even know where to start. She’d hidden who she was for so long and denied her past, that it sometimes felt as though _Clarke Griffin_ was nothing more than an old, broken and distant memory.

 

“I heard rumors of a stolen Dropship years ago, but nothing was ever confirmed.”

 

Clarke sighed, for it wasn’t the first-time Bellamy had uttered the sentence. He seemed to think her lack of participation in the conversation meant that he could simply repeat his words over and over again.

 

“What happened to the people who came on it?”  
  
Clarke gave him a swift glance from the corner of her eye, and his corresponding look was less then caring. Sighing deeply, Clarke realized that he was only going to continue to question her.

 

“They died.” There was only a small catch in her voice when she answered.

 

Bellamy’s footsteps stopped behind her, his eyes were dark and assessing. After only a moment he continued walking beside her, “from what?”

 

“Impact when they landed. I don’t know, I was only a child when the dropship landed.”

 

“They _all_ died from impact?” Bellamy’s voice was skeptical and Clarke caught the insinuation in his words.

 

“It was not a ship as large as the one you came on, only two people came. It was not made for such a journey, most of it broke apart when it landed.”

 

Bellamy’s hand reached forth to wrap around hers, when she turned in the circle of his arms, now close enough that they were chest to chest, Bellamy’s free hand lifted up the braids at the back of her head, so his rough fingertips could _just_ brush against the skin of her neck. “I thought you were only young when it landed. You know a lot about it.”

 

His hand ran through the back of her hair, catching slightly in the tangles. Although his voice was soft, there was a definite accusation, his eyes running over every inch of her face.

 

“I’ve been there before, once with Lincoln.”

 

Bellamy paused slightly at her words, before finally responding “Why?”

 

“Curiosity.” Twisting from his arms, Clarke turned, “we’re almost there.”    

 

Clarke faulted slightly at the sight of the large, dark greyish boulder at the edge of the small clearing. Bellamy hovered over her shoulder, “you okay?”

 

“This way,” Clarke pointed, playing off her pause as though she was unsure of which direction.

 

Walking around the boulder, their vision was filled with the broken and wrecked image of the first dropship to land on earth.

 

This time it was Bellamy steps that faulted, but Clarke continued to strive forward, stepping towards the door of the dropship. Passing over the ground, Clarke refused to focus to much, in case her mind flooded with memories.

 

“Here,” Clarke pulled the door, the latches screeching beneath her force. Leaning the top half of her body inside, Clarke indicated with her hand towards the equipment inside, “is this what you need?”

 

Bellamy finally shoveled forward, his body pressing boldly against her body to slip inside the opening of the dropship beside her. His eyes ran quickly across the area. “Yer. Yes. This could definitely work.”

 

Clarke breathed in deeply, he smelt of sweat and dirt and something wholly _Bellamy._ His hands were running over the screens and wires, until he pulled himself into the seat closest to the door, to better access the equipment.

 

It was the soft jostling against her when he moved that finally did it for her.

 

It was a nice distraction from where she was and who she’d become. So much so that when he turned to offer her a tight smile, Clarke couldn’t resist pushing herself closer.

 

-&-

 

Lincoln breathed deeply, his hand firmly wrapped around Octavia’s mouth. His back scratching roughly against the tree, Lincoln turned his head slightly, listening for sounds of other Skaikru following. When no one came, Lincoln slipped her body from in front of his to instead against the tree behind him.

 

He used the change in position, to visually check for others, still finding no one, he slipped the hand that was pushing her against the tree up towards her shoulder.

 

Holding her in place, in case she decided to run. But instead he found her strangely calm, her stance even and her eyes taking him in.

 

He nodded as if to indicate her safety, then removed the hand against her mouth slowly, prepared to replace it if she screamed. Only to be surprised, again, when instead she met his stare head on calmly.

 

Lincoln found himself lost for moment as she refused to release his eyes from her own stare, a loud bang and some shouting finally released him.

 

“She’s not here.”

 

Lincoln raised an eyebrow slightly, unsure of what Octavia meant.

 

“Bellamy’s soulmate, she’s not here.”

 

_Clarke,_ sighing internally, Lincoln was unsure if he was thankful for that or not. Nyko had asked him to bring her home, unbeknownst to Nyko exactly why she wasn’t returning home. But at least if she wasn’t with _him,_ convincing her to go home might be easier.

 

“But Bellamy’s not here either, so they’re probably together.”

 

At Octavia’s soft words she relaxed slightly, clearly at ease with her conclusion. Lincoln, however tensed.

 

Wherever they were, Lincoln sincerely hoped that it was far away from Tondc. Now that _she_ was coming, Clarke needed to return home, because if _she_ found Clarke with a member of the Skaikru, there’d be no telling what could occur.

 

Turning, Lincoln disappeared between the trees, intent on finding Clarke and Bellamy before someone else did.         

 

-&-

 

Bellamy couldn’t quite describe what happened, or how it occurred. But suddenly his hands were grasping Clarke. She was climbing into his lap and despite what some would describe as a sordid and torrid past with women, he’d never felt anything as close to the scorching heat that flooded his body under Clarke’s hands.

 

She was gripping his hair and tugging hard, her teeth nipping and tugging at his bottom lip. Bellamy himself, trailed his hands up to wrap around her waist, pulling her closer, until there was no space between them with Clarke seated on his lap.

 

“Bellamy-”

 

His hands tighten on reflex, his fingers digging into her skin, as she breathlessly whispered his name. When her soft lips trailed down his neck, his own head collided with the hard metal of the dropship behind his seat.

 

Clarke released a huff of breath that could almost be discerned as amusement, her hands reaching up to rub at the tender skin at the back of his head.

 

“What was that for?”

 

He wished he hadn’t asked, because then she was removing herself from his lap, letting herself straighten and focus, she slipped a hand down her leg to reach for a sharp knife.

 

Handing it to him, she indicated towards the radio that was old and dirty, but looked in better condition than the one he'd destroyed.   

 

It was only after he’d removed the radio and was looking for anything else that could be useful that Clarke finally responded.

 

“I wanted to”

 

_What?_ Bellamy’s confusion must have played clearly across his face, because Clarke began to elaborate.

 

“I _wanted_ to kiss you.” There was a tinge of red, building up from her chest and moving towards her face. It darkened the paint around her eyes and softened her features all at once.    

 

Before Bellamy could form a response, Clarke had snatched the radio from his hands, slipping it inside the small bag she pulled from her back.

 

As she was sliding it back into place, Bellamy eyes caught on the small black figure that fell from inside towards the ground.

 

Clarke’s eyes caught his suddenly scared and unsure. Bending to pick up the item, Bellamy found a chess piece. It looked old and worn, spinning the piece within his fingers, Bellamy’s eyes focused on the faded ‘W.J’ scratched into the bottom of the piece.

 

Gently prying it from his hands, Clarke placed the piece inside her pocket. Turning on her heel, “we should leave, if you have everything you need. You need to get back to your camp.”

 

As Clarke began to move slightly up the mound at the edge of the clearing, Bellamy ducked his head back inside the dropship, taking note of the seat beside the one he'd sat in, the straps that were tightened to their smallest position. Tugging gently, Bellamy pulled them away from the seat, noting that no one bigger than a child would be able to fasten a seatbelt that tight. The years of dirt indicating that the strap length had not been tampered with.

 

“Bellamy!” Clarke’s voice was tight and unsure, Bellamy immediately slid out from the confides of the dropship, pulling the door shut as he did so.

 

“Just shutting it tight in case there’s anything useful we could come back for, don’t want the elements getting inside.”  

 

Quickly moving to match Clarke’s pace, Bellamy’s eyes flicked between Clarke, the clearing that held the fallen dropship and the hand that tightened on reflex around the pocket that held the chess piece.

Bellamy’s hand swung down to grasp hers, his marked fingers prying at her wrist, where her own marks matched his. Until she released the grip her hand had around her pocket, so his colored fingers could tangle with hers.

_W.J._

_Wells Jaha._

Clarke was hiding a lot more then Bellamy first believed.

 

-&-

 

Doctor Abigail Griffin exhaled softly, stretching her neck from side to side.

 

There’d been nothing since the lights, the sparks, in the sky and aside from them. Nothing. But Abby found herself relying completely on something she’d never placed much value on before, pure faith and heart. She hoped it was enough, but it was all they had left, so it had to be.

 

Raven made it. She honestly believed that. She had to believe that.

 

Breathing deeply, Abby closed her eyes and pictured Clarke. Soft and bubbly, as the small girl that Abby remembered her to be, the small and delicate girl she would forever be.    

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, drop me a comment and let me know what you think so far :)


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I am completely unable to explain how much I appreciate the response to this fic and the continually support. However, I must apologise for my lack of response to comments and the (extremely) belated update. I don't want to get too into it but I unfortunately lost a close family member and just wasn't as interested in writing as before. 
> 
> However, a friend literally nagged me until I wrote something and tbh I'm really glad I did. Hopefully the end product is worth reading, let me know! Thanks heaps for the comments, subscribes, bookmarks, kudos and everything else :)

Neither of them spoke as they started the long trek back to Bellamy’s camp, his rough hands grated against her own. His steps were slightly larger than hers, and Clarke quickened her pace to be able to stay beside him.

 

“Bellamy.”

 

Clarke paused, unsure of what to say, his silence spoke louder then she could anyway.

 

Bellamy was beginning to wonder what lies she could be trying to devise now.

 

“I found it- “

 

“I can feel it.” His voice rough and haggard. 

 

Frowning slightly, Clarke’s shoulders weighed down heavy.

 

Bellamy paused before stepping into her path, effectively stopping her from walking forward. He looked forward, staring high above Clarke’s head, as though unable to even look at her. “I can feel it, I feel it every time you lie to me.”

 

Clarke’s breath stuttered and paused, “I –“

 

Bellamy’s eyes flicked down, to catch her gaze, “you don’t have to tell me.” One hand came up to brush softly against her face, “but don’t lie to me either.”

 

Stepping back into place, Bellamy continued to move forward, his guiding hand the only thing pulling Clarke forward.   

 

 

 

 

It was some time before Clarke found the courage to speak again, they were much closer to both Ton DC and his camp then she felt comfortable with. But her head ached and her heart felt heavy and for the first time in a long-time Clarke wanted someone to know, she wanted someone to know her, to know Clarke Griffin. But more than anything, she wanted that someone to be Bellamy.

 

“It’s mine.”

 

Bellamy’s raised an eyebrow, intending to tell her, that he didn’t care, that she was welcome to keep her secretes but there was a soft timbre to her voice that kept him silent.

 

“When we were little, Wells tried to teach me how to play. But I used to flick the pieces out of place when he wasn’t looking.” Clarke finished with a soft smile, her eyes distant and detached while she was lost in her own thoughts. “He’d get so mad at me.”

 

Bellamy steeled himself, before he could speak. “You’re from there?” His neck arched upwards towards the sky, Clarke followed the movement until they were both staring up at the greying sky. Bellamy’s face lowered so his eyes could return to the petite figure beside him, Clarke continued to eye the slowly darkening sky.  

 

Clarke nodded her head slightly, before finally returning her gaze to Bellamy.

 

“It’s hard to remember it sometimes. There are times when I can almost convince myself I wasn’t, but then I dream.” Tugging gently at his hands, Clarke strayed from their path towards the camp, taking Bellamy with her.

 

“And when I dream, I know it can’t be anything but real.”

 

 

-&-

 

Octavia shook herself out before attempting to calmly walk back into the camp. Her foot slipped slightly into a crevice of dirt, before she found sure footing and was able to enter the camp grounds.

 

She made a point of bypassing as many people as possible, and instead aimed for the drop ship.

 

Raven was seated at a desk while speaking to Monty and Wells, who was leaning over her shoulder and pointing out different things. Octavia walked over to stand behind them, whose conversation paused at her entry.

 

Octavia chose to ignore it and instead leaned down against the bench Raven was seated at.

 

“Can we help you?”

 

“Need any help?”

 

Raven’s left eye twitched and she turned slightly towards Octavia’s center, “so you can completely destroy _any_ chance we have of contacting the Ark?”

 

Rolling her eyes, Octavia scoffed, eyeing Monty, “no. Because there seems to be very few people offering, you look like you need as much help as possible.”

 

“Well unless your brother is hiding a working radio,” Raven paused and offered Octavia a look which clearly indicated she believed it entirely possible, “I don’t think we’re going to have much luck.”  

 

“So, we’re screwed?” Octavia crossed her arms, and stepped away from Raven’s work bench.

 

Raven turned to face Octavia, “No, the Ark is screwed. It looks like you and your brother are completely free.”

 

“Yer your right.” Octavia stepped away, planning to move up to the top level. “Aside from you know, the grounders that want us dead, the lack in food supply, and oh, just everything else we need to survive.”

 

 

-&-

 

 

Bellamy followed blindly behind Clarke, unsure of what to do.

 

But Clarke took charge, anchoring him towards the ground and pulling him along blindly until he was seated with his back against a tree and Clarke just beside him.

 

“I was born Clarke Griffin, to Abigail and Jake Griffin, I spent the first four years of my life on the Ark in the Alpha station and -“

 

“Wait, Abigail Griffin?” At Clarke’s nod, Bellamy shifted, “I know your mom.”

 

Clarke’s body jolted next to his, “You know her?” Her voice was soft and filled with an unsure reverence at his response.     
  
“Actually, know of her, is more accurate. She’s on the council.” Bellamy’s voice was tense his grip tightening on Clarke’s hand, he let the sentence trail off. Choosing instead to ignore Clarke’s connections, to what Bellamy considered a self-important, self-entitled social class. “Why did you come here?” He hoped his tone did not display his discontent with the classist system in which she happened to have been born in to.

 

“My father, Jake,” Bellamy tilled his head at the clear distinction of his name and softness that flowed around the simple name, but Clarke seemed to take no notice. “He was an engineer and he found a flaw in the Ark’s air system.”

 

“Wells told us the air system was faulty, that that’s why we were sent down here. What kind of flaw?”  
  
Clarke frowned at him, her eyes moving around the large trees that surrounded them, as if looking for any possible intrusion. “I don’t know, I just know that he was worried the Ark would die and us with it.”  
  
“That’s why he took the dropship.” It was more a statement then a question, but Clarke nodded her confirmation anyway.

 

“He believed the earth was survivable, he thought we’d have a greater chance here and that being here, we could prove to the Ark that is was safe, for everyone.”

 

Bellamy allowed the moment to pass, Clarke’s eyes were sparkling in the light, and at just the right angle Bellamy believed he could almost see her shed a tear. But she flicked her head and the moment was over, “I woke up after we landed and he was gone.” The word _dead_ was left unsaid, but Bellamy could read between the lines. “I was found by Trikru people. One of them defended me and took me in. I had thought, that after all this time that the Ark must be gone. At least until-“

 

“Until we came.”

 

Clarke spoke just after him, “until you came.” It was said with such a flourish of tenderness, that Bellamy could have crumbled under the sound.

 

Bellamy’s hand intertwined with Clarke’s, wrapping around the twisted marks on her wrist. It pulled at his chest and twisted his stomach inwards, Clarke seemed to soften at his touch.

 

It was almost as though they were falling inwards towards one another, the world forgotten and lost in the moment between them.

 

-&-

 

“Em’s nou hir,” _She’s not here._

Nyko bowed his head downwards, only making eye contact when necessary.

 

“Wanheda was kom return kom Polis.” _Wanheda was to return to Polis._ Nyko frowned, the left corner of his lip sliding downwards, “She will return when she has the information that Heda requires.” Anya frowned at Nyko’s forceful tone and glare.

 

“Your _daughter_ should move faster.” Nyko’s hands twitched at her sneer that curved around the word ‘daughter.’ “The commander is becoming impatient.”

 

Anya twisted her hand to wrap around a jar, upon the top shelf. Impatiently stalking around Nyko’s cabin, while she rolled the jar within her hands. Nyko bit his tongue, his thoughts darkening at the Commander’s demands of Clarke.

 

“The Commander trusts Wanheda,” Nyko’s mouth soured as he spoke the name, “and she will return when needed.”

 

“O mebi ai will sis em au,” _Or maybe I will help her,_ “so em can return nau” _so she can return soon._ There was a challenge in her voice, and Nyko refused to rise to the challenge. Instead steeling his face, and tightening his mouth.

 

Anya soured at the lack of response, dropping the jar and watching it clink across the ground before storming from the cabin.

 

Retrieving the fallen jar from the ground, Nyko set about returning to his previous tasks before Anya’s rude interruption.

 

Lincoln’s entry to the cabin only resulted in a slight turn of Nyko’s head, “em wasn’t kom the skai kru,” _she wasn’t with the sky people._

 

Nyko’s eyes cut across Lincoln’s figure, if he were a lessor man, he might have shivered under Nyko’s stare. As it was, he flicked his eyes away for a moment, and Nyko knew to pounce. Turning to face Lincoln head on, Nyko waited.

 

“Lincoln, where is she?”

 

Lincoln stilled slightly before speaking, “I’m sure she will be back soon.”

 

“Do you know why she hasn’t returned already?”

 

Nyko waited for a response, however Lincoln refused to reply, and Nyko who was used to years of Clarke and Lincoln’s shared secretes signed quietly. But turned and offered Lincoln the opportunity to leave.

 

Allowing a small fraction of a frown to appear on his features, Nyko turned on the spot to face the wall and was left wondering when his daughter would return.   

 

 

-&-  


Clarke’s hand had intertwined with Bellamy’s, each of them seemingly unable to release the other.

 

Although Clarke had lead the way from her dropship, as they drew closer to Bellamy’s camp, he’d taken charge. Leading Clarke by the hand, allowed Clarke’s mind to wander. Logically she knew that she’d done what was needed and aided the Ark, there was a part of her that argued it was time to leave. It had been too long, and Lexa was expecting a response.   

 

If her own thoughts plaguing her mind wasn’t enough, Bellamy’s sister loitering at the skirts of their camp, with a serve and concerned expression aimed at Clarke was the final straw.

 

“We should talk.”

 

Bellamy’s hand slackened in Clarke’s, but he didn’t pull away.

 

“About what?”  
  
Octavia frowned at his stern response, following his reply with her own terse reply, “not you.”

 

Both sets of eyes turned on Clarke.

 

Clarke stared back refusing to cower under their gazes, “Your friend came looking for you.”

 

Clarke’s left eyebrow raised, her mind quickly flashing to Lincoln’s severe face, but waited for further explanation.

 

Octavia seemed unfazed by her lack of response, instead giving a slight eye roll before continuing, “he seemed a little concerned.”

 

At Clarke’s continuous lack of response, Octavia instead turned her eyes on Bellamy. Who in turn, spun to face Clarke head on. Sighing internally Clarke waited for Octavia to give them some space.

 

“I need to return to my people.”

 

“ _Your_ people?” There was a clear implication in his voice, filled with indignation and confusion.   
  
Octavia’s face was turned but they were both well aware of her presence, “Yes Bellamy. _My_ people.”

 

Bellamy twisted to see where his sister stood, his free hand coming up to scratch at the back of his neck. “I thought you could come back to camp with me.” His tone was soft and querying.

 

Clarke scowled, “I doubt I’d be accepted.”

 

“They know about what you are to me.”  
  
Clarke's shields went up, concerned about what knowledge of her was currently spreading through their camp. “Knowing and seeing, are two very different things.”

 

Bellamy’s face was saddened, and Clarke ached to fix it. “I’ll be back soon.”

 

Pulling the radio from her bag, she shoved it into his free hand, turning up to face him, without expecting it, Bellamy swept down to capture her lips one last time. His hand tangling in her hair and tugging slightly. Before they separated, Clarke was the first to turn and walk away, their hands rising between them until they were both forced to release one another.

 

-&-

 

Bellamy stormed into the camp, ignoring the questioning looks, Octavia strode beside him, but was smart enough to know he didn’t want to talk.

 

Instead Bellamy excluded an aura of wrath and anger, that forced those in the camp to move away from his path. Heading up the dropship, Bellamy slid up to the empty space beside Raven.

“Well look whose return, the great and mighty murd-“

 

Slamming the radio down against the table, Raven’s eyes slipped from his face towards the radio. “How-“

 

“Does it matter?”

 

Raven glared but her expression faded slightly as she assessed the condition of the radio.

 

“I assumed not.” Smirking slightly Bellamy continued, “Better get to work.”

 

Walking to the side of the ship, Bellamy slumped against the wall and waited.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you so much for the amazing response to this story!  
> Thank you to everyone who gave kudos, commented, subscribed and bookmarked. 
> 
> Let me know what you think? Please!! xx

Clarke should have known something was wrong, the sentry guards were no longer situated among the tops of trees, instead they were evenly placed along the Trikru border line.

 

They stood to attention as she came into view, each one assessing the paint across her eyes, and the faded red in the twists of her hair, before bowing their heads and stepping apart to allow her entry.

 

She’s the center of attention as soon as she’s in the mist of the Tondc clan grounds, if she’d paid closer attention she would have noticed the unknown guard eyeing her.   


A hand slipped between the group that had surrounded her, gripping her arm and tugging slightly.

 

“Nyko ste looking gon yu.” _Nyko is looking for you._

As Lincoln pulls her body up against his, he mutters low beneath his breath.

“Quickly, before they call for you.”

 

Clarke nods fast and short, allowing Lincoln to pull her through the clan. Some people watch her from the corner of their eyes, but she moves without noticing, very much used to the constant staring.    

 

Standing just inside Nyko’s medical cabin, Lincoln steps in front of the entry to guard the door. His back leaning hard against the wood, “Yu don kom tel em.” _You have to tell him._

Her eyes sweep across the room before settling on Lincoln, “I wi-“

 

Nyko enters, pausing slightly at their conversation, a slight eye quirk letting them both know that their conversation was not unheard. Nyko turns, pausing at his shelving to turn and move the jars, while he waits for Clarke to break.

 

True to form, Clarke is the first to break. Slipping the fur covering from her shoulders until her arms are bare. Holding her arm outwards so that when Nyko finally turns to face her the twirls of blue and the significance behind them will be clear without her having to voice the words.

 

Nyko is still to turn, and Clarke feels her body shake the longer she’s forced to wait.

 

“Nyko,” he turns immediately and Clarke’s sure it’s because he senses her anxious energy. His eyes focus first on her face, his eyes searching as he sees the panic in her eyes. As they reach the blue twirls, Clarke twists her arm allowing the mark to catch the light.

 

“Who?” _Chon?,_ his voice is gruff and harsh as always, but Clarke feels as though there is a slight undertone of satisfaction at the twist mark. His eyes flicker to Lincoln before moving away, dismissing the idea before its even fully formed.

 

He seems to be running over ideas within his own mind, before his face screws up as if the thought that’s come to mind is unpleasant and horrid. “Skaikru.”

 

“Sha.” _Yes._

Nyko is now focused on the shelving, and although she’d been so afraid to tell him, there had always been a part of her that had assumed he would accept it, at least for her.

 

“Yu laik won gon osir, nou won gon em,” _you are one of us, not one of them._

Clarke remembers the words from when she’d brought the injured grounder boy here, “can’t I be both.”

 

He immediately turns, his face harsh, “Taim yu laik kom won gon em, yu laik nou jom osir,” _If you are with one of them, you are not with us._

“Nyko-” a loud knocking forces her to break off.

 

Lincoln opens the door and Clarke leans down to slip the fur back up her arms, a warrior from Polis is standing at attention. “Wanheda, yu laik needed.” _You are needed._

Clarke sighs deeply before turning quickly and exiting the cabin, following behind the Polis warrior.

 

-&-

 

Lincoln watches Clarke as she walks beneath the dark rolling skies as she reaches the entry of the large tent that’s set up in a far corner, before his turning back to face Nyko.

 

“Em ste won gon osir,” _She is one of us._

“Bilaik mark means em wont be,” _that mark means she won’t be._

Nyko is refusing to turn, Lincoln storms towards him to grab at his shoulder. “What are you doing? Clarke isn’t going to give him up.”

 

“She will. Or we’ll lose her.” Nyko’s eyes are filled with sorrow and distress, “I can’t lose her.”

 

Lincoln steps away from him in slight shock, never once seen Nyko with emotion like this. “Well you will, if you act like this.”  

 

-&-

 

Wells sits with his back against the dropship wall, with his head against the wall he can clearly hear the harsh rain as it hits the side of the dropship in a heavy downpour. The sound of loud murmurs and stomping feet bounce across the dropship, from the level below them.

 

“I got it! I got it!” Raven bounces slightly on her feet, there’s a loud crackle of static across the room and Wells jumps up to cross the room and reach for the radio in Raven’s hand.

 

She’s quick to snatch it back and give him a tight glare, “Wait.”

 

“I thought you said it was done?” Wells stands tight-lipped and straight backed.

 

“No,” Raven is jingling with the cables and turning knobs. “I said ‘I got it’. As in I got the radio to work.” She stops to face him, “I didn’t say that we were connected to the Ark.”

 

Raven smiles, her lips stretching wide across her face, as she flicks a switch without moving her eyes from Wells. “Now, were connected.”

 

The crackle of the radio is loud and the static is disrupting to the continual repetition of heavy downpour against the side of the dropship, at the same time a dark and thunderous crack of thunder rolls across the sky. “Shit!”

 

“What?”

 

Raven’s already turned and jiggling with the cables, as she looks towards the roof of the dropship.

 

Quickly, Raven grabs at the radio before she begins to speak loudly. “Calling Ark Station. This is Raven Reyes. Come in Ark Station” Static is the only response, “This is Raven Reyes. Calling Ark Station.”

 

The entry to the top level of the dropship slams open, Bellamy’s top half slips into the top level. Directing a dark glare at the two occupants of the room, “what the hell is happening in here?”

 

“We got the radio working!” Wells’ excitement is palpable, the excitement is like adrenaline racing though his body. A hush falls over the hundred as Wells’ words are loud enough to cross the room and echo down the ladder that Bellamy currently stands on.

 

Raven is busy playing with the knobs of the radio, but she has the sense of mind to offer Wells a snide smile at his words. “Ark Station, this is Raven Reyes with the hundred, we’re here. ”   

 

Static echoes through the room.

 

“Calling Ark Station…” Raven pauses turning to make eye contact with Wells and Bellamy. “The hundred _are_ alive.”

 

No response.

 

There’s a sense of impatient waiting from the kids below, even Bellamy is frozen still on the ladder.

 

Wells sinks within himself.

 

While Bellamy’s grip tightens on the ladder, he himself shrinking inwards towards himself as he lets his head hang, unable to make eye contact with anyone.

 

Raven reaches forward to flick the radio off, her hand freezing when the constant static breaks.

 

“This is a restricted station. Who is this? Please identify yourself?”

 

Wells is so shocked that a deep, dark laugh burst forth from his throat, both him and Bellamy bolting forward to crowd around Raven.

 

-&-

 

Clarke’s nervous.

 

It’s an odd emotion to have, as she enters the cabin that’s been erected for the visiting warriors. Clarke tugs on the fur against her wrist.

 

Anya is surround by three other warriors, clearly members of Anya’s clan as Clarke would have recognized Trikru warriors.

 

Each of them eyes her carefully before kneeling down and casting their eyes away from hers, Anya is the last turn and Clarke can sense her anger.

 

Anya only offers a slight bow of the head, but Clarke accepts it.

 

“Yu may bants.” _You may leave._ The command is quite clear in Clarke's voice.

 

The warriors only offer Anya a side glance before they turn and leave the cabin, Anya’s lips tighten significantly and her eyes are almost penetrating in nature.

 

“Wanheda.” It’s said with such clear distain, that Clarke can’t help but smirk at the discomfort the name causes for Anya.

“The commander sent me. She’s been waiting for word from you about the Skikru ship. But she has grown impatient.”

 

“So, she sent _you?_ ” Clarke walks towards the table that holds a large map of the surrounding area, her arm slips out to grab the paper before a tanned hand snatches it back.

 

Anya’s hand is twisted around the covered wrist, her mark burns under the unwanted touch. Clarke’s heart races, the fur jacket has risen slightly.

 

“The Commander trusts my word.”

 

Slipping her arm from Anya’s hold, Clarke straightens, an eyebrow raising in clear challenge of her words.

“There is not much to tell, that’s why I have not returned. They are simply children.”

 

“You were but a child when you took the mountain.” Anya’s eyes are tight, unforgiving and waiting.

 

“I am Trikru.”

 

Anya lets out a deep snort, but does not comment.

 

“The Commander has decided. We attack at dawn.”

 

“Attack?! They’re children.” Clarke is the one to grab Anya this time. But unlike Clarke, Anya immediately throws off her hand.

 

There’s no response and Clarke walks from the cabin at a brisk pace across the camp to her own cabin, once inside Clarke finds it unbearably hot. Her skin feels as through its vibrating and there’s an itch that she just can’t scratch.

 

Bent over at the waist, Clarke struggles to breathe.

 

Outside the grey sky is restless and grumbles loudly. The sky is blackening and clouds are dragging across the sky, leaving behind dark trails of heavy rain that pound against the ground in rhythm with the fast and heavy beat of Clarke’s own heart.    

 

The roaring rain is not enough to drown out the loud and vulgar sound of horns across Trikru land as they announce the coming battle.

 

As the heat is almost overbearing, Clarke bolts.

 

Anya catches a glimpse of Wanheda as she moves quickly through the grounds, a small smirk gracing her face.       

 

-&-

 

Lincoln’s frown is set and his eyes are dark and heavy.

 

Most of the clan is rowdy and despite the rain the warriors are crowded in the center, the younger boys are visibly excited at the prospect of war.

 

Lincoln has seen enough death to know that war is not something he wishes to engage in.

 

A flash of blonde and red against the tree line catches Lincoln’s eyes, already knowing where she’s going Lincoln’s decision is made.

 

He’d hoped to be able to slip out without notice, but Nyko is waiting for him before he can get too far.

 

Lincoln stops moving under Nyko’s intense stare.

 

“Teik care gon Klark.” _Take care of Clarke._

He can only nod slightly, before watching Nyko walk away. He doesn’t turn back to watch Lincoln leave, but his steps are slower than normal.

 

Bolting through the trees, Lincoln is hopeful that he’ll soon catch sight of Clarke.

 

There’s a clear trail in the ground that Lincoln can easily follow, she’s obviously scared, he’d taught Clarke years ago the importance leaving no trail. Thankfully, the rain is filling the gaps in the dirt she’s left and her trail will soon be gone.

 

Rushing through the trees, he can see a small glimpse of Clarke up ahead.

 

“Klark, hod op!” _Clarke, wait!_

There a small turn of her head, enough to let him know she heard but her pace doesn’t slow.

 

Lincoln quickens his pace, until Clarke’s within his arm’s reach.

 

“Klark!”

 

“They’re dead Lincoln!” Clarke is shaking beneath his hands, but there’s a fierce determination on her face like nothing he’s ever seen before, her pace barely slows but she allows him to move next to her. “I won’t let them die. I won’t let _him_ die.”

 

Lincoln knows there’s nothing he can say, so instead he ensures his pace is matched to hers as they move quickly towards the Skaikru camp.  

 

 

 

 

 

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not late ... YOU ARE
> 
> hahha anyway, let me know what you think!
> 
> Thanks heaps for staying with me

The 100 had spread from the Dropship into the surrounding camp, the dark skies and pounding rain forgotten as they jumped in puddles and screamed like the children they’d long forgotten they were.

 

The words that had passed across the radio over an hour ago, still echoing in their minds.

               

 

 

 

 

_“The Ark is coming to the ground.”_

It had sent everyone into a flutter, the screams and shouts echoing up the ladder Bellamy had stood on, the vibrations causing Bellamy’s own body to shake, the sound almost unbearable in the small confines of the Dropship.

 

Bellamy had immediately shouted for everyone to quiet, before running forward to lean across Raven’s worktable, Wells’ body pushing against his as they waited for further information.

 

Raven’s eyes were wide and unsure, “when?”

 

Chancellor Jaha’s voice breaks through the static, “we’ll start making preparations now, and the Ark will be down as soon as possible.”

 

It was the first time the Chancellor had spoken, it had pulled at something in Bellamy’s chest. To hear the voice of the man Bellamy had thought he’d killed.

 

The surety in his voice travelled across the air, sending everyone into another tailspin, the ladder shaking as people rush forward to get closer to the radio.

 

The vibrations grate on Bellamy’s nerves and for the first time since he’d moved he finally speaks, “Enough!” The rattling of the ladder pauses, Bellamy storms forward to duck his body down through the opening, his fierce glare stopping everyone’s movements.   

 

Bellamy stands turning again to nod and allow Raven to talk.

 

The conversation had stilled when they had revealed there were survivors on the ground, before the radio had crackled under the flourish of new voices. Each one growing louder to compensate for the voices around them, discussion of weapons and guards had come up quickly when the Ark had learnt of the deaths caused by the grounders.

 

It was clear the Ark was organized and readying themselves for a fight.

 

As this particular conversation settled and had died down, the radio broadcast had ended with Raven and those on the Ark organizing the next time they would make contact, the people on the Ark ensuring everyone that would begin searching for anything they would think would help.

 

Jaha’s voice once again flows across the room, breaking the static; “We’ll have someone constantly on stand-by in case you need to contact us.”

 

At this point the 100 had broken from the dropship in celebration.

 

Bellamy and Wells followed, each of them standing in the pouring rain, not quite side-by-side, but near enough that Bellamy could just hear his huffs of breath above the rain.

 

Turning his head slightly, Bellamy couldn’t help but eye the figure beside him. Attempting to envision the baby Chancellor as a young child,  and standing beside a small blonde girl.

 

It wasn’t an easy image to concoct and Bellamy found the idea of Clarke as a child was difficult to think about. Every image he invented still showed her paint smeared eyes, braided hair and the hardened square of her shoulders that only seemed to softened under his touch or proximity.

 

“What?”

 

Bellamy had been unintentionally staring at Wells.

 

Unable to think of a reasonable response, Bellamy scoffed, turning his back to Wells, turning his head towards the sky to note the clearing skies.

 

“Nothing, _Chancellor_.” He intentionally let his words drip with cynicism and contempt.

 

Loud screams boomed across the field around the Dropship, the excited shouts fading away to allow screams of fear to echo in their place.   

 

Both Wells and Bellamy stood straighter, standing firm in their place beside each other, as numerous people came running towards the Dropship.

 

“Grounders!”

 

 

-&-

Clarke crouched low, Lincoln’s figure hovering just behind her. His breath was heavy against her shoulder, hot against the cold chill that the heavy rain caused.

 

“Chit nau?” _What now?_

Clarke frowned at Lincoln’s whispered words, her eyes absorbed on the scene before her.

 

The Skaikru were spread across their camp, swaying as if one in the slowing rain, their clear joy overflowing. Clarke grimaced, unsure of how to proceed at this point.    

 

“They look so happy.” Her words were low and soft, almost wistful in their tenor.

 

“Can yu see em?” _Can you see him?_

Lincoln’s own words soften around the word ‘him’, leading Clarke’s mind to begin conjuring images of Bellamy.  

“Come, nau” _Come, now._  

 

Lincoln’s hand reaches down to clasp her hand firmly, quickly moving so they stood just beyond the clearing. His heavy figure loudly pushing through the bushes which separated them from the Skaikru.

 

They both knew the instant their presence become known, the once cheerful screams now turning.

 

Clarke squirmed, a few of the Skaikru grabbed nearby fallen branches to use as ‘weapons,’ each of them bouncing slightly on their feet as if in preparation for an attack.

 

“You.”

 

The words are stained with disgust, and Clarke takes a moment to take in the boy before her. His figure is less then imposing, but his dark eyes are fierce and aggressive.

 

Clarke has a vague memory of seeing him before, but most of the memory is shadowed by the following images of Bellamy and the appearance of shining twirls of blue that twisted across her wrist and arm.

 

“I’m here to see Bellamy.” Clarke’s aware that the way she speaks _his_ name different, her own Trikru accent softening so as to appear like a soft caress around the letters. In response, Clarke tightens her shoulders and stands straighter, hoping to counter her clear display of weakness.

 

“Of course, you are.” The boy turns to the few Skaikru who had chosen to stay. “This is Bellamy’s _soulmate._ ” While this boy snickers at Clarke, the few others seem to pale, one even going so far as to take a couple steps backwards.

 

Clarke’s preparing to respond when Bellamy’s own figure comes rushing forward.

 

“Murphy!”

 

He stops short at seeing her, breathless and confused.

 

Bellamy’s eyes flick briefly between her and Lincoln, before returning quickly to Clarke. His eyes are scraping downing her figure, taking in every slight movement.

 

“Klark.” Lincoln’s hand pushes against her waist, the movement draws Bellamy’s attention. His eyes tighten at the intimacy of the gesture and Clarke finds herself edging away from Lincoln’s hand to stop his unease.

 

“We need to talk.” Clarke’s voice is steady, but her hands are shaking slightly. Bellamy notices the movement, his hand reaching out to calm her.

 

Clarke steps away, time seems to stop.

 

The brief flash of hurt across Bellamy’s face is distressing, Clarke strides forward so she’s standing face to face with him. “You’re in danger.”

 

Bellamy’s eyes twitch and his clearly baffled by her statement.

 

-&-

 

Anya surveys the groupings of warriors from her higher vantage point at the center of the Trikru, the warriors are broken into clusters, each group planning for the morning.

 

All are readying for the coming battle, letting her eyes run across the open field. The absence of Wanheda – _Anya sneers at the name -_ is clear to all of the Trikru clan, there have been murmurs of her name but Anya has been steadfast in her planning. Every move calculated and decided without Wanheda.

 

Nyko is lingering near his cabin, his shoulders weighed down by the medical supplies which hang from his back. Anya turns her attention back to the crowd which stands below her.  

 

The straighten of her shoulders and the flaking of the two Polis warriors beside her, draws everyone’s attention immediately.   

 

“Gon dawn em begins.” _At dawn, it begins._

There’s a deep hush across the ground.

 

“Osir will teik the battle kom the skai.” _We will take the battle to the sky._

The loud shouts and howls that follow her statement, vibrate the ground beneath Anya’s feet, make her heart pound and leave her roaring for battle.   

 

With, or without Wanheda.

 

-&-

 

“What do you mean I’m in danger?”  
  
Bellamy’s tense, uncomfortable with the prying eyes that surround them.

 

“Klark osir dont don time gon disha.”

 

Clarke’s frowning, the lines it’s creates causing creases in the paint around her eyes. Her eyes touching with his for only moment before returning to her friends.

 

“Linkon, nou. Beja.”

 

His arms feel heavy and his back aches, but more than anything there’s an ache in his chest. One that he can’t quite ignore, at least when Clarke isn’t looking at him.

 

The tense silence between them is broken, “Bellamy!”

 

Just behind him, small groupings of kids are beginning to leak out of the Dropship. Eager to know what’s happening, after the lack of noise and no further sightings of grounders.

 

There’s a slight pause as Clarke breaks to take a deep breath, Clarke turns to him then, eyes pleading for understanding. “The Trikru – “Clarke stutters slightly, “grounders -  are coming here, they’re preparing to attack at dawn.”

 

Immediately, Murphy and the few others who had rounded on the edge of the field at the first sign of grounders are in disarray.

 

The few people that had crept closer, manage to hear the rushed but loud concerns that are voiced from Murphy and the others and it’s not long until the Dropship and the field are filled with loud screams and alarmed children.

 

Bellamy himself is stuck in place, unable to move his eyes from Clarke’s, his lost and confused and then Octavia’s standing beside him, confused and unsure, looking for reassurance as she tugs at his arm.

 

“Bellamy, what are we going to do?”

 

All at once everyone is looking to Bellamy, for reassurance, for help, for answers he just doesn’t have.

 

“Wait, they’re just going to attack? Kill us all?”

 

Rubbing against his eyes, Bellamy sighs deeply. Clarke’s leaning against his side, “You need to calm them down. Send them away so you can plan something, you need to start preparing.”

 

Now Wells is standing next to him, muttering in his ear.

 

“Bellamy you need to calm everyone down-“

 

“Bellamy, we have to do something-

 

“Bellamy -“

 

“Bellamy –“

 

He can’t concentrate, there’s so many voices and everyone’s looking to him. He just needs a moment to breathe, to think, but they’re not stopping, he just needs a second-

 

“SHUT UP!”

 

Bellamy looks up to see Clarke, she standing steady and is directing her attention towards the crowd just below where they currently stand.

 

There’s a booming silence and everyone looks confused, as they stare up at the dark figure before them.

 

“I understand that you’re scared.”  The crowd is no longer silent, each of them confused and nervous about what’s to come, the grounder speaking to them only seeming to increase their unease.

 

From somewhere deep in the crowd Bellamy hears them questioning who she is, there’s a dark murmur as someone notices the mark that covers her wrist.

 

Bellamy notices that Clarke is standing steady, ready to wait out the distrust that is steeping through the crowd. 

 

Lincoln steps forward, standing to her left. His figure casts a dark shadow across the field, but while Bellamy is sure his stance is meant to reassure. To the kids before him, his position looks somewhat menacing.  

 

Bellamy strides forward, ready to defend Clarke but pauses slightly unsure of what to say.

 

His silence, is filled by Finn’s irritating voice. “Just listen. We have nothing to lose.”

 Finn’s smile towards Clarke, grates on Bellamy’s nerves, but his words seem to spark a silence across the crowd. Clarke nods her head in thanks, and turns to face the crowd.

 

“I know you’re scared and I know you’re unsure about what’s going to happen. But you’ve followed Bellamy so far, and although it looks dark right now, you will find a way out of this.”

 

She’s looking towards Bellamy now, waiting for his input.

 

Taking his position beside Clarke, Bellamy looks out towards the crowd below them.

 

Pointing towards a group, Bellamy begins giving orders. “Continue working on the wall. – Look for anything that could be used as weapons. Trust me. We will find a way out of this.”

 

Soon everyone’s moved off, and although there’s now a dark cloud over the 100, at least they’re finally working towards something.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bellamy pulls Clarke, keeping her close behind him; his hand is grasping firmly at hers.

 

Bellamy chooses to ignores the eyes which follow them as they move. Climbing to the top level of the Dropship, Bellamy turns when they finally have a moment of relevant peace.

 

Sliding his body across hers, to give themselves a small amount of privacy from the others in the room. His hands reach out to grab at her waist, grounding them both to each other.

 

“What are you doing here?”  
  
Clarke sighs deeply, standing on her toes to glance over his shoulder. “My clan begun planning an attack.” One of her hands reaches up to run across his chest, the other gripping tightly his marked hand. “I couldn’t not do something. I had to come.”

 

“What will your people say about this?”

 

Clarke lowers slightly, her shoulders sinking somewhat. “I think it’s safe to say, they’re not _my_ people anymore.”

 

“Bellamy come on!”

 

Standing around the long desk, Bellamy watches as Wells brings out a map. The group crowds around the map, everyone leaning forward as the significance of what’s to come, strains heavy on their shoulders.   

 

 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay.... I know it has literally been months and I can not apologise enough. 
> 
> An immediate family member passed away and I kinda lost interest in writing but I am trying to get back into it. So honestly from the bottom of my heart, if you've come back after all that time. Thank you!
> 
> Let me know what you think :)

 

 

“Do yu think disha ste na work?” _Do you think this is going to work?_ There’s a clear note of skepticism in Lincoln’s voice.

 

Clarke smiles tightly.

 

“Yu laik mo den welcome kom bants taim yu believe the skai will fail.” _You are more than welcome to leave if you believe the sky will fail._

Lincoln doesn’t respond immediately, instead choosing to look out at the Skaikru as they rush around in the small field in front of the Dropship.

 

“Ai follow yu.” _I follow you._

 

Clarke notices the slight glances and out right stares, it makes the muscles in her back twitch but it’s nothing she hasn’t lived with before. But it’s the stare from the dark-skinned boy that really sets her on edge. The glare is knowing and distrustful, it’s clear he wants to talk to her but is unwilling to confront her while Lincoln’s imposing figure stands just behind her.

 

Clarke leans back and knocks her shoulder against Lincoln’s chest, “Yu beda help em.” _You should help them._

When Lincoln doesn’t budge, Clarke speaks again. “Bants.” _Leave._

 

Lincoln simply eyes Clarke’s figure, his mouth twitching at the command in her voice, before storming off towards a group of Skaikru working on the wall around the Dropship.

 

They immediately scatter at his arrival but Lincoln simply lifts a thick log moving it towards the wall.

 

Clarke walks away from the entry to the Dropship, towards overhanging trees and the slow coming of night creating a cover of darkness around them. Clarke senses him long before he speaks.

 

“Are we going to be able to trust you?”

 

Clarke ignores the question, although there is a swell of anger rising in her stomach. It’s irrational and wrong, there’s no reason for him to recognize her. Not when she’s wearing war paint and her blonde hair is colored blood red.

 

But there’s a dark swelling in her heart that feels like loss.

 

“You can trust that I am here to help.” Clarke refuses to look at him, when she speaks next. “Wells, …”

 

“Don’t.” His voice is rough and harsh, “you may be Bellamy’s soulmate. But you haven’t earned _our_ trust. This is your only chance.”

 

Shifting her hand against her pocket, Clarke rubs the harsh lines of the chess piece.  Wells is waiting for some kind of response, but the only response she can muster is a slight nod of her head.

 

“You need to prove that you will pick us, all of us, not just Bellamy over your people and then maybe, - maybe we can trust you.”

 

Wells is already moving off, instructing a group of kids, and Clarke is left alone.

 

Squeezing the chess piece tightly, in her fingers.

 

 

 

 

 

 

There’s a quiet bustle around Skaikru camp, and Clarke’s unsure of her place now. Lincoln is now following close behind Octavia, nodding tersely as she directs him and others.

 

Clarke is simply standing near the entry to the dropship, ignoring the stares that are being sent her way.

 

She can feel him before he speaks, his hot breath against her neck, “thank you.”

 

Clarke unconsciously begins to lean back, pressing against Bellamy’s chest.

 

“Regretting your choice?” Bellamy’s voice is soft but penetrating, Clarke can sense the worry beneath his question.  

 

Frowning slightly Clarke relaxes back fully into Bellamy’s arms. It’s the softest gesture Clarke can give at the moment.

 

“No.”

 

His arms tighten slightly at her waist, before loosening.

 

 

-&-

 

“Rae, -“

 

Raven barely pauses in her actions, Finn hovers high above her bent shoulder.

 

“What’s this?” Finn reaches a hand forward to lift a container of liquid, Raven’s hand moving it from his reach without even giving him a glance.

 

“Fuel, from the dropship. Give us some fire power.”

 

There’s a spilt second of silence, before Finn breaks it.

 

“How did Bellamy get you to help?”

 

Raven stops what she’s doing, turning from her seat to face Finn, “I volunteered. We have to be ready to fight, right?”  

 

His face drops and Raven can sense the lecture that’s coming, “or we could try talking to them.”

 

“Finn,” Raven stands to pull the sheet of the makeshift tent back, her eyes catch on Bellamy’s soulmate, “don’t you think if we could, she would have said something.”

 

There’s a tight crease around Finn’s eyes, and Raven knows he won’t stop here.

 

 

-&-

 

Bellamy does a full circle of the camp, checking the kids to ensure everyone is preparing for what’s to come.

 

The sky is darker, cold rain lightly dropping on them. There’s a nervous buzz around the camp, which ensures that everyone is doing the best that they can.

 

Clarke disappears and reappears as she sees fit, weaving through the camp. Silently helping when she sees a need to, and leaving when she doesn’t.

 

Bellamy’s eyes have trailed her as she helped set up small fires around the camp, giving them light to guide their work.

 

 

 

 

 

Finn approaches him as his helping a group make knifes, signaling for his attention. “Finn, keep helping with the wall.” Bellamy assumes that’s the end of their would-be brief conversation, but Finn persist. Hovering over his shoulder while he works.

 

Leaning down to drop his work, Bellamy stands to follow Finn.

 

“Bellamy, we have to do something.”

 

Finn’s glaring up at him, determination clear on his face.

 

“We are.”

 

“Not everything can be solved with fists.” There’s clear disgust in his voice.

 

“No, you’re right. But that’s why we making weapons.”

 

Finn’s face twists at his response, but Bellamy doesn’t have the time to take pretty boy’s precious feelings into account.

 

Bellamy’s turning, his mind already on something else when Finn’s hand grabs his arm. “Consider this, we win.”

 

“That’s the plan.” Bellamy’s arms cross while turning to shake of Finn’s hand and face the younger boy again.

 

“We kill them-“

 

“Finn!” Bellamy barks out his name, tired of this conversation.

 

“We kill them, then what happens?”  
  
“We live.” Bellamy thinks the answer is pretty obvious.

 

“What about your soulmate?”  
  
Bellamy’s back immediately stiffens at the mention of Clarke, “she’s here-“

 

“Now. But what about when she realizes her family, her friends are dead, or even if they’re not. That there’s no chance she can see them again because of what we did.”

 

He honestly has no answer. He hadn’t put much thought into it.

                                     

Clarke is from the Ark. But she isn’t from the Ark like them.

 

Immediately his eyes search for the petite body of his soulmate, she’s easy to find with the bright red dye that coats her naturally blonde hair. She’s standing with two of the younger boys, showing them how to stand and defend.

 

She doesn’t look happy, and Finn’s thought is one Bellamy had himself expressed.   

 

Striding forward, Bellamy catches Clarke’s arm. Finn coming up to stand beside them, Clarke eyes him carefully unsure of the shorter man.

 

But standing face to face with her, Bellamy can’t form the words.

 

Finn takes the lead, annoyance tingles at the bottom of Bellamy’s spine. “We have to do something else.” Finn gestures off-handedly to the kids working around them. “You can’t want a war.”

 

Clarke stills, but doesn’t speak.

 

“Can’t we do something?”

  
“They have already signaled war.”

 

Finn leans forward into Clarke’s space, “people are going to die.”  
  
“Enough.” Bellamy’s voice is not loud but forceful enough that a few people pause in their actions around them. “You’ve got your answer, it is, what it is. Get back to work.”

 

Clarke pulls away from his hands, “you should tell your people to get some rest.” Her head turns skyward, the fire lights the paint beneath her eyes. “Dawn will be here soon.”

 

His hand reaches up, his fingers just barely grazing her cheek. “You should get some rest.”

 

“I should-“  


“I want you to come with me.” His voice is soft, his fingers still rubbing against her cheek.

 

Clarke accepts quickly. Bellamy leads her by the hand towards his tent, throwing orders as he goes. There’s a few stray glances, but most steer clear of them.

 

-&-

 

Bellamy settles against a makeshift bed, spreading his arms for her.

 

It’s not that she’s never shared a bed with a man (or woman) before. But Bellamy feels different.

 

He seems to deflate slightly, when she doesn’t immediately drop into his arms, his arms dropping slightly, his face relaying no other emotions though.

 

Dropping to the floor beside him Clarke leans into his side. There’s nothing but silence for a while, until she can find the courage to speak.

 

 

“Will you tell me about the Ark?”

 

Bellamy releases a deep sigh, and Clarke immediately responses, “don’t worry.”

 

“It’s just-” pausing slightly, Bellamy pulls his hand from around her to run through the curls at the back of his neck. “If possible, it’s worse than this place.”

 

“I don’t remember much from the Ark.”

 

Bellamy’s hand tug gently at the long curls behind her head, silently encouraging her to continue.

 

“I remember the fall-” she doesn’t elaborate that she’s talking about her entry to earth. “And I used to dream about it sometimes.” Clarke turns her head inwards, so she’s not looking at her soulmate when she speaks again. “I remember my mum. But not much else.”

 

Looking back up at Bellamy, Clarke waits for him to speak.

 

It’s quite a while before Bellamy finally does speak, “it’s not a nice place.” His visible swallows before finally saying, “Do you remember the laws on the Ark? Or the consequences?”

 

At her silence, he continues.

“There’s not much, in terms of recourses on the Ark.” Clarke remembers some of this, but doesn’t interrupt Bellamy whose eyes look a little hazing as he speaks. “So, they enforce laws that ensure resources are not over expended, they’re horrific and rule breaking results in floating.”

 

Bellamy’s arm tightens around her, his other hand still twisting continuous in her hair. Clarke can only assume that floating, is not pleasant.

 

Bringing her hand up to run down his face, Bellamy’s eyes clear, his body turning into hers. Clarke leans forward so he lips are barely a whisper away from his, “tell me something good.”

 

“When O was little I used to tell her stories, about the past. I’d act them out for her. Our apartment was so little, I used to bump into everything. It would make her giggle,” he pauses slightly and looks pensive, “I think that’s the only reason she’d watch me.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bellamy falls asleep fast, but Clarke finds it harder.

 

Wriggling from his arms, Clarke moves outside. The air is frigid and chilling, the sky pitch black. Eyeing the few Skaikru milling around and the darkened camp.

 

In only a few short hours, this could all be gone.

 

Turning back, and sighing deeply. Clarke begins her search.

 

 

-&-

 

Sliding back beside Bellamy, Clarke pressed her lips against his temple. Softly at first, barely more than a gently brush against his face.

 

“Bellamy,” Clarke’s continual kisses slowly wake him. Until his eyes are attentive yet confused by her actions.

 

She’s leaning over his body, her own weight supported by her arms. Bellamy only watches for a moment longer before he advances on her. His eyes are holding a spark she’s never seen before, bordering on almost wild.

 

His hands gripping her beneath her arms, flipping her body beneath his own.

 

Drawing closer, Bellamy’s voice caresses her before his lips do. “What a lovely way to wake up.” He pauses above her, simply watching her.

 

Her heart is pounding, blood roaring in her ears, rushing fast through her veins. Bellamy’s body drops to cover hers, his mouth crushing against hers.

 

His lips move over hers hungrily, his hands gripping her tightly, reaching her hands up to tug against his shirt. Lifting it up from his body until it slips off his head.

 

Bellamy takes the opportunity to pull her shirt from her, sitting back against his legs to admire her for a moment. But that’s as long as Clarke can wait, before she surges forward to pull Bellamy back towards her.

 

Her hands move eagerly over his chest, raking her fingers down the hard planes of his back. Bellamy groans into her mouth, before surging forward to kiss her harder.

 

His hands pause at the bindings that secure the pants at her waist, a quick nod of her head stops any uncertainties Bellamy might have had, his lips moving down her neck, while he guides her pants down her legs, leaving her bare for his eyes.

 

Bellamy’s touches are normally so careful and gentle, but as he wedges his leg between hers, his hands are slightly rough. One hand cupping her jaw, holding her in place as his mouth moves over hers.

 

Harsh, rough kisses tugging at her lips.

 

She can feel him hard and insistent, against her hip.

 

Pushing her pelvis up, moving against the thigh between her legs, bringing herself flush against him.

 

Bellamy lets out low hiss, “ _Clarke._ ” His hand at her jaw releases, immediately reaching down, landing between her thighs. His fingers gliding softly between her thighs.

 

His fingers move slowly, Clarke’s unable to stop the moans that catch in her throat. Bellamy attacks her mouth, grabbing the moans as she releases them.

 

Clarke’s unwilling to wait longer, her hands and legs working together to pull at his pants until his free.  

 

They’re barely past his thighs before his against her.

 

Bellamy leans an arm down to support his weight, the other hand hiking up one of her legs. Burying himself against her core again, while moving deeper.

 

Clarke reaches up to grip the muscles of his arms, her fingernails digging into his arms.

 

Rocking her hips up to meet each thrust, Bellamy’s head drops down to lay kisses against her neck, nibbling softly.

 

Their thrusts grow faster, until Bellamy’s hands are gripping tighter, and Clarke’s hands start tugging at him.

 

 

 

Bellamy catches her lips, pulling back just enough to murmur, “I love you.”

 

“Ai hod yu in.” _I love you._

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I know there is quite a few soulmate fics out there, but I had this idea and just had to go with. I apologise if this chapter seems a little rushed, I wanted to set up the story and provide you with a bit of information about Clarke's past and give you an idea of what's to come. Let me know what you think and if it's worth continuing :)


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